#no one else will force themselves…. i must suffer for everyone else and then recommend it or not

[rosasappho]

another engineering bl….. haha i’m killing myself

[obeiii-mee]

So, I finally finished part 2 for the original ask. I’ve had a bit of trouble with writing the twins because I think this would affect them particularly bad. I hope you enjoy all this angst, cuz I sure as hell didn’t im fucking sobbing alright?

Pt. 1

Enjoy!

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The Brothers Reacting to MC sacrificing themselves to bring Lilith back, Part 2:

Satan:

-Satan felt like the stupidest demon in DevilDom. He was supposed to be the intellectual, the logical one, the one with more than a few spare brain cells to work with. And yet he never twigged there was anything going on with you. The signs were all there. You had asked him for very specific book recommendations for the past few weeks, about the Celestial Realm and the full power of souls. He even let you borrow some from his own collection without giving it a second thought!

-In hindsight, your goal was very obvious but at the time, he hadn’t even stopped for a second to consider it. It just didn’t seem like something you would be capable of doing. But you did. Of course you did. You were the most driven human he had even met. You managed to live for a full year with seven of the most dangerous demons in hell and make pacts with them no less, so anything is fair game when it comes to you.

-Lucifer and Lilith found him in the library, like usual, reading what seemed to be a very graphic book on different wars that took place in the human realm over the centuries. What can I say, the man wanted to know more human history for your sake. He was one of the few brothers who hadn’t even noticed you were missing and never thought anything was amiss. Sure, he missed your presence but the cynical fourth born isn’t exactly paranoid.

-Now, if it was Lucifer alone that had come to check up on him, Satan would have been very tempted to just ignore him. But obviously he noticed a slightly smaller, less threatening figure next to him and he forced himself to look up from his book. Lowkey hoping it was you because he often complained his brothers got to spend way too much time with you. Satan and Lilith technically never met, face to face. However, I like to think that since Satan was born out of Lucifer’s wrath, he has a small connection with his memories and therefore Lilith. After all, Satan was the only one that never participated in the war or actually fell down as angel.

-He never met her before. Yet he immediately recognised her as she came in. She had every trait you would expect an angel to have. Except she wasn’t an angel anymore of course. She was dead. Or at least supposed to be. Lucifer just stood in the doorway as she approached him. Lilith fidgeted in front of him as she tried to come up with the right words to introduce herself.

-“I’m really happy to actually-“

-She didn’t get to finish because Satan had embraced her almost immediately, almost like he was on auto mode and couldn’t help himself otherwise. She welcome the gesture, glad their first meeting wasn’t as awkward as she had predicted it would be. The eldest brother was watching, slightly in awe because, as far as he knew, the only person he had ever hugged before this was you.

-Of course, the spell had to be broken. Lucifer knew better than to step in and allowed his sister to explain. Satan was going to have a bad reaction nonetheless, but he might become even more aggressive if it was him delivering the news. Lilith never had to deal with this particular brother of hers or any of his fits but somehow, it was like she knew what to do.

- Their sister did her best to explain it to Satan as calmly as possible, as if that would make much of a difference. Satan remained oddly quiet throughout all of it, showing no reaction besides a neutral one. Lucifer found this strange. Yeah, his brother/son was usually the silent type, the sort of demon to think, not speak. But he expected some sort of emotion in there. Anything, really. Anger definitely. Maybe sorrow and misery. But not this.

-Lilith noticed the shaking before even Satan did. His body had just started convulsing on its own as he processed the idea of you laying there, unmoving and cold; dead. He involuntarily clenched his fists and he had to sit down before his legs gave over. Lucifer was still outright confused while Lilith struggled to soothe her brother. He hated feeling like this. All vulnerable and weak, like the skies of hell will fall on him and crush him. He was Satan for fuck’s sake. He was probably considered the most fearful creature in all of existence. He shouldn’t be feeling like this.

-But of course he did. You were always able to do that to him, bringing out that soft side of him he never knew he had. Or at least refused to acknowledge he had. The funny thing was, since you were the one being subjected to that side of his, he didn’t mind. Because you are MC, a literal ball of sunshine. Nothing him and his brothers deserved but you were still willing to spend time with them. The least they could have done was to protect you.

-They couldn’t even do that

-He couldn’t even do that

-Satan is even more retreated now than before, more hostile toward his own brothers and basically everyone else. He will snap at anyone for very minor reasons and lock himself up in the library even more than usual. Anything to get his mind off how much he must have disappointed you. It hurts too much to even hear your name being spoken. God forbid they choose another human to come down there as an exchange student because he will unleash all of his wrath on them on your behalf. How dare some lowly human try to replace you? He’s more prone to fits of anger now too. Long gone is his self control and calmness.

-The one person that understood him was dead. The one person he allowed himself to be close to and genuinely kind to was gone forever. Satan will never get over this. Or the fact that you were smiling so brightly before you died.

Asmo:

-He’s just so sick of it. So so so sick of it. So sick of watching everyone he cares about either die or get taken away from him. If he was a mortal he would have probably gone crazy. Maybe he already reached insanity and just didn’t realise it. After all, everyone has a breaking point, even demons. And once you go beyond that point, your whole world will shatter.

-To him, it seems almost impossible that just that morning he had seen you at breakfast, laughing along with his brothers and overall just being the intriguing, silly human you were. You were right there! Right in front of him, talking to him like it was any other day. And now he has to deal with the unbearable fact that he will never hear your voice again.

-Asmo was out, hanging out at the Fall as usual, when he realised he had missed several, frantic calls from Mammon, who at that point wasn’t aware that you were long dead.

-He brushed him off, initially, thinking his brother was just having another one of his melodramatic moments. So the fifth born went around Majolish, basically buying everything he could get his hands on to ignore the uneasiness creeping up on him. He could feel something bad was happening. He just didn’t know what.

-At this point, he was a bit unsettled which is very unlike him. He is pretty optimistic as a whole so seeing him so startled and on alert was a sort of disturbing sight to see. Lucifer called him after lunch and told him to come home. Normally, Asmo wouldn’t have taken his older brother’s words too seriously but hearing his strained voice on the other side of the phone forced him into action.

-He rushed home, faster then he had ever done before., because let’s be honest, he prefers being outside of the house more often than not. He searched for you everywhere, but you were nowhere to be found. However, he bumped into Lucifer and Lilith in the middle of the upstair’s corridor in his frantic search for you.

-Unlike his brothers, Asmo noticed Lilith immediately, way before he even acknowledged his brother. It was such a shock to him that he thought for sure that he was hallucinating, though things like that never happened to him beforehand. Asmo stopped breathing for what felt like centuries because he didn’t want to raise his expectations, he didn’t to be disappointed if Lilith truly wasn’t there and he was just making her up. He didn’t want to deal with the grief once again.

-However, Lilith remained exactly where she was and flashed him one of her brilliant, warm smiles that he had loved so much back in the Celestial Realm. That he, on more than one occasion, tried to copy because he wanted to have as much in common with Lilith as possible. He wasn’t imagining her and the moment he realised this, he threw himself at her, the worry of his hair being ruined long forgotten and now his only concern was that she would dissipate in thin air.

-Lilith did not yield and embraced her brother, she gave enough hugs today to last her a lifetime but she couldn’t be happier to see her beloved brothers again. It took every ounce of strength on Lilith’a part not to burst into tears from both joy and sorrow.

-Lucifer hated this. He hated having to cut in the happy moment and lay down the bad news. But he had do it. Because no one else would. He was the eldest. He was responsible for everyone. A sadist he may very well be, but it absolutely destroys him to see his brothers suffering from such extreme distress. He told Asmo everything as bluntly as he could, thinking that ripping the bandaid straight off would result in a better outcome.

-It did not.

-Mammon’s reaction to your death was expected, but Asmo’s took both Lilith and Lucifer by surprise. They didn’t expect him to be as emotional as he ended up being and both of them handled it awkwardly because the Avatar of Lust was usually such a confident and admirable creature, it felt weird to see him act in such a way. He fell to his knees in a moment of pure despair and cried enough tears to drown himself in them later. He sobbed for a long time and did not stop immediately, instead going through several stages of weeping, from hiccuping to panting and then back to crying. It was an endless cycle of sadness.

-Lilith half carried half dragged him to his bedroom, while her other brother watched, a bit mesmerised. Asmo usually loved having company and now that his sister was back, he 100% needed it but at the same time, he wished to remain alone for a while. It would be painful but he needed to gather his feelings in one place before he could even put together a conclusion on how he was feeling. So they both left and with the door closed, all the air seemed to suffocate him and drag him into endless despair.

-Asmo received a lot of damage from your death, changing his personality very abruptly. Compared to his brothers, his change in attitude is not so subtle and now he basically hates anything that reminds him of you. He no longer enjoys hanging out or clubbing at the Fall or even go shopping anymore unless it’s necessary because those were things he used to do with you! And now, they seemed so pointless he often wondered what was the point of actually doing it. The only sort of satisfaction he gets is being in your room because if he closes his eyes, just for a moment, he can pretend you’re still there with him, whispering words of comfort to him.

-Yes, he still has one night stands and tries to seduce people left and right but it’s a sort of distraction more than anything else. He doesn’t do it out of need anymore, but out of desperation to get you out of his head. He’s also been sneaking to the Human Realm a lot as of late, as if hoping to randomly bump into you up even though it’s not possible and he knows it. He’s just torturing himself further. Hopeless. Just hopeless.

-You made him feel so much more than just Lust. And now that he had you, even if it was for just a short amount of time, Asmo knew he would never feel that way to anyone ever again. He would never fall in love with anyone ever again.

-He knew the risks of getting attached to a human. He knew how much he would suffer in the end. After all, humans are mortals, they are not destined to live for long. And yet he went and did it anyway because you were too amazing to ignore. You gave him something he never realised he yearned for and you left before he could reciprocate.

The Twins:

-Neither Lilith nor Lucifer was surprised to find the two of them together, relaxing in the attic. It’s common knowledge at this point that the twins have a hard time being separated. And especially more so than before after the whole attic incident, which concluded with them refusing to leave each other’s side. Usually, you were with them too, of course, for good measure. Obviously, they weren’t able to find you anywhere like everyone else. Belphie got tired of searching and just suggested that they go upstairs and that eventually you’ll joking them.

-Lucifer was, understandably, extremely worried at how the twins would react to all of this. Just seeing their adored sister in the same room as them would be more than enough to cause them to malfunction. But if he let them know that you died mere hours ago? And for smuggling Lilith’s soul back into existence no less? It would be chaos. At least with his other brothers, their reactions he could more or less predict. But the twins were slightly different. Especially Belphie. You can never really tell what goes on inside his head.

-Beel noticed his sister before Belphie did. He was so taken aback, he tumbled backwards and off the bed, accidentally dragging his twin with him. It was quite a comical fall actually. Lilith would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the circumstances. She missed them, of course. Truth is, she missed all of her brothers and their memories back in the Celestial Realm. It always hurt so much to think that she could see them but never really interact with any of them. Except through you since you were heir in a way.

-Beel was a mess, first of all. You can easily imagine the distress he was in at the sight of his little sister. His dead little sister. Dead because of him. It might’ve been centuries since Lilith fell from the heavens and got transformed into a human but he continued to carry that burden with him because how could he not? He should’ve been able to save both Lilith and Belphie even though, logistically speaking, it would’ve been impossible. He saw the despair in her eyes right before she disappeared below the clouds. That image had and will haunt him for the rest of his eternal days.

-He was on his knees before her in a split second, grabbing the hems of her sleeves and sobbing into them as if the whole of DevilDom was about to crash down on all of them. Beel was yelling incoherently, switching between begging for forgiveness and stuttering mid sentence, unable to get the rights words out. The whole mansion was filled with his distraught weeping and he just couldn’t stop.

-His sister knelt down and embraced him, almost awkwardly because of the position they were in, as she began crying as well. Out of exhaustion more than anything. She’s dealt with so many breakdowns in one day that she couldn’t handle holding her emotions in anymore. With the death of her descendant and the sorrow of her brothers, she wished from the bottom of her heart she had just stayed dead because everything would have turned out alright that way.

-Belphie was more cautious. He stood at the back of the room, watching as his sister hugged Beel and sort of held him in a way that would quieten him down. Careful. He casted Lucifer a glance, as if to ask “what the hell is going on?” before once again staring at the ridiculous sight before him. Usually, he wasn’t one to look to his eldest brother for help. There was some dangerous hatred he harboured for him deep in his heart after all. But he was so confused and conflicted, he couldn’t fight the urge to seek guidance from him.

-Lucifer didn’t know how long it had been since he last saw his youngest brother be that openly vulnerable. It felt like an eternity now, to be honest. He was like a rock hard, clamped sea shell since their fall as angels. He walked over to him and placed his hand on Belphie’s shoulder. For the first time in millenniums, his brother didn’t try to swat it away.

-“Lilith is back.”

-That was all he needed. Those three words. As soon as Lucifer finished his sentence, he ran straight into his siblings who were still crying on the floor. He almost bulldozed them over if it wasn’t for Beel’s strength. The youngest landed on top of them, almost starting to cry as well. Beel, seemingly tired himself out so much that he went a bit limp in Lilith’s arms, still gripping onto her for dear life as if she were on the verge of disappearing again.

-“MC is dead.”

-It was a horribly timed moment to drop that bomb in, to be fair. Lucifer tried saying it as casually as he could but he could hear his own voice crack and see his own hands tremble. His mind was focused but his body had betrayed him. The twins were so into the moment, so glad to see their sister after all this time, it was almost like they didn’t hear him. So he repeated the statement, this time in a more composed manner. Belphie immediately reacted. He got off his siblings and straightened his back, glaring at Lucifer in shock from the other side of the room. Beel stayed where he was, but craned his neck to gawk at Lucifer, who was standing solemnly, waiting for the predicted chaos. Lilith closed her eyes and winced.

-Beel was in outright denial which was surprising. He wouldn’t, or rather refused, to accept that you could be dead. I mean, the idea itself was propestrous, right? You’ve almost died once and you managed to outdo death. Or more accurately, your future self did. You could do it again, couldn’t you? Just the image of you laying dead somewhere was enough to send him in panic and another, this time almost silent, meltdown. He seized fistfuls of his hair and pulled, as a method of escaping the pain that came with the thoughts of you and death being correlated in any way. If Lilith’s death wasn’t enough to push him over the edge, this sure as hell was. Could demons go insane? Probably. Beel certainly felt like he was. Even with Lilith there comforting him, he had the impression he couldn’t stand or even look up from the floor.

-Belphie didn’t make a move to aid his brother or help his sister. He stood, teeth gritted and jaw clenched, staring at his oldest brother with an odd gleam in his eyes. For a few moments, he was motionless. Then, he turned on his heel and marched out of the attic, slamming the door behind him so hard that the whole room shook. Lucifer didn’t try to stop him. It would be meaningless anyway. He wouldn’t listen to him. And his sister was still occupied with Beel, who kept mumbling with tears trailing down his cheeks about everything being his fault and not being there when he should have.

-The twins did not even go through the same stages of mourning their brothers did. Beel was dealing with the grief of someone incredibly close to him by eating even more than he normally would, causing his siblings quite a bit of concern. But they couldn’t argue much. He was the epitome of gluttony in the end. Belphie didn’t change much in terms of his daily activities. He slept as much as he could during the day. And at night, he stargazed as he always did. But more bitterly than usual, despising the fact that he wasn’t going to enjoy another starry night with you ever again. He didn’t blame you for dying. He was angry you left and to do something so stupid as bringing Lilith back in return for your lost soul. He was angry you couldn’t be selfish for once and let yourself be happy with them.

-He was angry at Mammon too. He learned he was supposed to be with you earlier that day. He wasn’t. And now the two aren’t speaking. For some reason, he is slightly upset with Lucifer too but that is only because he was the one who delivered the sad news. But most of all, he was very furious with himself. Because he promised that he would never let anything happen to you again after the whole choking incident. He swore on his honour as a demon to protect you and he couldn’t.

-Don’t tell him they’re bringing another exchange student in. He will kill them. He 100% will kill them. He doesn’t want to replace you. And neither does Beel. He would probably eat the new student within a few minutes. But it would take a while until all of that is sorted out. After all, even Diavolo himself is bound to be mourning in his own way. Not like you were meant to know, but you were definitely the favourite child exchange student.

-It wasn’t fair you had to leave. It wasn’t fair that you didn’t even get to say goodbye. It wasn’t fair that the three of you couldn’t spend more time together. Beel won’t be able to ever taste your cooking again and Belphie won’t have anyone to cuddle with in the morning and be generally lazy with. And again, they had even more of a reason to curse their father for ruining the one good thing that’s happened to them since their glory days as angels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-The 7 brothers will continue to grieve your death for the rest of eternity, be assured. Their sister just as much of course. And at some point, the whole of DevilDom had to in a way as the prince himself wasn’t his usual, peppy self. At least Lilith’s presence had a calming effect on them but not one that could compare to the trauma of knowing you were truly gone. They would wait and with time, there will be healing.

-Except time doesn’t heal anyone’s wounds. It just teaches them how to deal with the pain.

——————————————————————-

This took so much longer than planned, Jesus Christ! I guess I was really unhappy with it at some point and gave up, then sort of rewrote it which took a while. And now it’s done! I’m sort of proud on how it turned out. A bit cliche but I feel like it created the right atmosphere. Also, the last quote above is a favourite of mine that I thought would be a good idea to add in.

The twins are joined because I thought it would not only save time but also make more sense since the two are together almost all the time. Hope no one is upset I didn’t do the twins separately, it would’ve taken even longer then!

To add, 1,080 followers???? Wtf, I haven’t even posted anything in a while, thank you so much! You’re all too nice istg.

@doggonudez asked me to tag them in this post, so I hope this actually works lmao.

Al~

[dailydnp]

Daniel Howell: "Mental health isn't a mystery"

YouTuber Daniel Howell has written a book aimed at demystifying mental health and offering a toolkit for people who are struggling. He tells us why You Will Get Through This Night.

Dan Howell has a message for the struggling.

Don't suffer in silence. Reach out. Connect.

"It can be hard to ask for help, but you just need to think how you'd feel if a friend did the same," says Howell. "It wouldn't be a burden, you'd feel better that you can help them and it might bring you closer."

The YouTuber has written a book that aims to demystify mental health, a straight-talking missive that offers practical solutions and even a few jokes. He describes You Will Get Through This Night as a "lean, mean, mental health machine" – check out our interview below.

Tell us about your new book – You Will Get Through This Night…

This is the book that I wish I could have read when I needed it. Too many of us go through life not really thinking about our mental health, how we think and how it makes us feel, and if we just learn a few tips (that we should all be taught) it can literally change our lives! Why waste any more time? The book is a lean, mean, mental health machine - there's no fluff or waffle, it gets straight to the point and tells you the practical things you can try in your life right now that will make a difference.

I'm here as the guy that makes it relatable, so you don't feel bad if you see yourself in these struggles, and funny. Because sometimes after a long day the last thing I want to do is 'homework' or read something boring, so if I can make a few inappropriate jokes about my mess of a life to make it enjoyable, I'm happy to.

Are there any books you used as inspiration when writing yours?

I actually really tried to avoid getting influenced by other books out there! A lot of mental health books are either: celeb memoirs that are amazing for relating to and shattering the stigma, but not great advice for you, or serious psychological self help that goes really deep on specific topics and the theory, but are a struggle to get through to the important revelations.

If you only ever buy one book to understand your mind and sort your life out – I want this to be the one. It's like the highlights of the entire library, crammed into 300 pages – designed for you not to just read once, but come back to and refer to as a toolkit for whenever you need it.

Was there a specific incident in your life that spurred you to write it?

Definitely. When I opened up about my struggles with depression, it was incredibly hard – and terrifying. I seriously thought I'd damage my career, people would judge me and think I'm 'crazy' and I'd have to wade through misunderstanding. It was the opposite. People empathised, understood and related.

Some people saw themselves in my story and realised for the first time that their life wasn't supposed to be that way, others finally understood a silent struggle that someone in their life was going through too. It showed me not just the importance of sharing your story to break the stigma that still exists around mental health, but how much incredibly important stuff there is for all of us to know about our minds!

My experience in life has given me a following of passionate people that show me every day the power we all have by telling our stories, the responsibility that comes with a platform, and the good you can do with it. I knew I had to write the book that could have saved me years of struggling – so hopefully someone out there doesn't go through the same.

Great trailer for the book! And really astute point: everyone in the world is alone with their thoughts before they fall asleep. How do you manage your thoughts in that time?

Thank you! I really wanted to show firstly, that mental health is universal. A lot of us only think 'mental health' applies to people with serious anxiety or depression, when it's actually how all of us think and feel all the time – if you are too stressed, have difficulty dealing with anger, or worry too much up in your head and it's holding you back in any way from enjoying life, that's your mental health! You can do something about it.

I'm someone that has real trouble getting to sleep if I'm worrying about stuff and the book deals with this in so many ways: from learning mindfulness to get perspective on your thoughts, to being present and using your senses and body to change how your brain operates, to the practical side of sorting out your problems so they don't go bump in the night.

Deep question – but why do you think night often brings out our darker thoughts and emotions? (No pun intended.)

'The Night' is such an important metaphor, not just for the dark times, but that literally we spend all our days pushing our fears to the back of our minds (to be distracted by the activities of the day), but when night comes and it's just you and your thoughts – they suddenly appear and you have to confront the truth.

We're all great at lying to ourselves about what bothers us and how we really feel, whether that's a day to day problem on your mind or a huge skeleton in the closet (for me literally my own skeleton) that is having a huge effect on your life.

The good news is – you can 'be your own light'. Mental health isn't a mystery or something set in stone, it's something you can influence and shape to make yourself healthier and happier.

As a YouTuber, how would you describe the relationship between your mental health and social media? Presumably it must be complicated…

I am definitely trapped in a digital nightmare that I created, haha! Social media has its good sides, from finding communities and support, to having fun and even learning about things that you might not get from a classroom or in your real world environment.

The downside is that the internet brings out the worst in people, from trolls hiding behind screens, to social media beaming us with addictive algorithms that force us to compare ourselves to the highlight reels of our friends' lives and the world's most perfect and successful celebrities.

Even just the information overload of our social lives and the 24 hour news cycle is too much for our primitive brains to handle, no wonder it's so bloody stressful!

How would you recommend people use social media for the benefit of their mental health? And negate its potentially harmful effects?

I do a whole deep dive on social media and how to manage it. From 'muting' that annoying friend, to curating the content on your timeline to take it from stressful and upsetting, to inspirational and mood boosting! It's important to get perspective on why people act differently on the internet and how to interpret the sometimes extreme actions we see (that someone would never do in real life).

We have this incredible power in our hands, connecting us to the whole world all the time, we just need to know how to make it work for us.

Is there a piece of advice or mantra that you’ve found helpful? Either someone else’s or one of your own?

I'll spoil it now: the number one tip for managing your mental health and general emotional wellbeing is support from others. I say this as the biggest introvert in the world that needs a two week holiday alone in a cave after going to a party for five minutes – but sharing what you're thinking and feeling with another person can be a lifesaver.

Even if they don't have magical advice, just feeling seen, heard, acknowledged and getting what's going on up in your head out into the world and onto the table can give you perspective and feel less alone. It can be hard to ask for help, but you just need to think how you'd feel if a friend did the same – it wouldn't be a burden, you'd feel better that you can help them and it might bring you closer!

Don't suffer in silence. You've got this. You will get through this night.

[teddy06writes]

nonono I need more ANGST part 3 for out of his grasp/out of their grasp were reader comes back as a ghost like Ghostbur but remembers bad memories so she doesn’t remember Dream or George

Out of Their Grasp

{THIS IS THE NEW UPDATED VERSION BECAUSE APARENTLY THE FIRST VERSION WASN”T ANGSTY ENOUGH}

{real talk though I thought maybe I could change this to be more angsty cause I didn’t think the ghost thing would work}

requested by this anon: “hey hey I was wondering if you could do dream x George x reader fantasy/royal au (bc I just read "for his hand" and I love it so much!!) where reader and dream go to battle but only dream returns from it. and he has to tell George that reader died. the more angst the better😝💅”

and also this one: “will there be a part 2 of For His Hand? It’s so good, i loved it!”

{Technically you don’t have to read part one but I would recommend it because this one takes place in the same universe}

Dream x George x reader

trigger warnings: swearing, yelling, major character death, aGnSt

premise: war breaks out near the borders of the SMP, you and Dream are sent ahead of the royal party to the front lines in an attempt to stop any further battles until a peace can be reached when disaster strikes, leaving your partners to deal with the repercussions.

{dude I’m like manically laughing right now}

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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“It was just skirmishes, here and there for the last few weeks,” Sam gestured to a few spots near the northern boarder on the map spread out across the table, before pointing to another in the center of the rest, “But then, yesterday there was a huge attack on the villages, and our military bases in this valley.”

You glanced around the room, from person to person, gauging there reactions.

George had visibly stiffened in his seat, and behind him Dream seemed equal tense.

“Have we taken any measures to fight back?” Sapnap asked impatiently.

“How bad are the damages?” George asked, ignoring him.

Eret looked down at the report they’d been given, “There seems to have been more pillaging than raiding, they were breaking into peoples house, causing general destruction and looting, when our forces attempted to stop them they began to fight. All in all 30 of ours were killed and there was an estimated 10,000 in damages.”

George frowned, as Niki spoke up, “We should pay the people reparation's and help them with any reconstruction that needs to be done.”

Many people nodded, but next to you Sapnap was still unhappy, “Are we doing anything about the invaders? We cannot just sit here and allow them to attack the people!”

“Pushing, pushing.” You muttered.

The king looked at him for a long moment, before turning to Callahan, the scribe, “Attempt to negotiate a peace. I don’t want anymore bloodshed to curse this land.”

The man beside you groaned, and you were quick to elbow him in the side and Sam ended the meeting and everyone began to file out of the room, hissing, “I don’t know how they do things where you’re from but that is no way to behave in an advisory meeting. Next time you pull that shit you won’t be allowed back to one.”

-You had taken the new coming warrior on as a sort of apprentice after he’d first arrived at the palace, and it was clear the change of pace wasn’t something he was ready for-

“They can’t just stand by! The King is a fool if he thinks a peace can be reached like this!”

You glared at him. “The King is no fool.”

“You only say that out of obligation.” Sapnap fired back.

You recoiled, burned, before crossing your arms and starting out of the room, “You may be a trained mercenary but you haven’t the faintest idea as to how to hold yourself among this crowd. It will be the death of you.”

He followed you back toward your office, listening as you continued, “King George is a good and just man, to say that he is a fool is to say the sun is square. He has wiped this kingdom clean of many years of bloodshed.

“The Kings advisors, and cabinet are kind, respectable people, you must remember to hold your tongue  unless spoken too, and never say anything brash as you have done now, lest you make a greater fool of yourself.”

He huffed, “If I must stay silent in those meetings than how can I get my point across? Sending a messege to the enemy through force may be the only way!”

“Now you sound like Tommy, just as foolhardy and headstrong as the child,” You pushed the door to your office open, “I’m sure that Technoblade agrees with you, though he knows better than to speak freely.”

“If he agrees with me than perhaps it’s the right move.”

You turned to look at him quizzically, finally saying, “A wise king does not seek out war, no matter what his knights advise.”

Sapnap turned, “Then the lot of them are fools.”

“I have told you once to never disrespect the king, I suggest you don’t do it again. This land has seen it’s share of unjust rulers, be thankful you have not come here under worse authority.”

~~ That night, when the palace grew quiet, and the sky dark, you found yourself back in Dream’s quarters, an overtired, overstressed George having wedged himself between you two and refusing to move.

You sighed as Dream ran a hand through your sleeping partners hair, “He’s anxious.”

“I mean, can you blame him? War may be on the horizon.” Dream murmured.

“I meant even now- in the time of sleep. I think Sapnap is just adding fuel to the fire.”

Dream sighed, “If he has another outburst like that-”

“He’ll be cast out,” You nodded, “I know. He just needs to be willing to learn the way things go around here. In time he will learn.”

Your boyfriend chuckled to himself, “Fucking hotshot.”

“I think you’d like him, if you were able to spend more time with him.” You smiled.

“Well someone had to go snatch him up as an apprentice!”

“Well it was him or Ranboo, and Ranboo is far too- forgetful, for this sort of thing. I’d’ve had Tubbo but he and Tommy are a package set an you took ‘em.”

“What about Purpled?”

You rolled your eyes, “He started an apprenticeship with Punz ages ago.”

“SHHhhhhhhh, ‘m tryin’ to sleep.” George muttered, burying his face in your shoulder.

In the darkness of the chamber you could barley make out Dream’s eyes sparkling as he took your hand, “Course love, course.”

~~

As the weeks continued the damages on the northern boarder only seemed to grow, the new invaders claiming three of the villages there own.

There was yet another large attack on the town that had been damaged the first time, this time a direct threat left etched on the walls, ‘You have made my people suffer, and now yours shall feel the same’

“Militia, both local and our own soldiers have taken it upon themselves to fight back, almost a hundred lived lost to each side.” The silence in the room grew deafening as Sam finished reading his report, not even Sapnap daring to speak.

“Your Majesty?” Bad hazarded, “What is our next course of action?”

George frowned, glancing around the room, “Peace is still the priority. Maybe- maybe we call a ceasefire, I could meet with there ruler-”

“No,” Dream interrupted, drawing all eyes to him, “It would be too dangerous. How do we know they can be trusted to lay down there arms?”

George shot him a look, “How do we know that we haven’t done anything to provoke them? Whatever we have done wrong we need to fix it. If we can work something out then people will be spared on both sides.”

“Shall we arrange for a ceasefire?” Eret asked.

The King nodded as Wilbur spoke up, “We could set up a meeting place, on neutral ground, possibly similar to the holy lands, so there would be no worry of a security breech.”

Dream seemed to relax at this, and then eyes were turned to you and Sapnap, representing the royal guard, “We can, but even so we should stay vigilant, perhaps send a group ahead with the runners to see too it.” You said, noting the gratitude on Dream’s face, as well as the slight annoyance on George’s.

“Well I see no one better to attend to the King’s safety than you,” Bad said, “You shall go with the party, and Technoblade with you, Sapnap can remain here to take over your day to day duties.”

The man in question quietly shot you a pleading look, at which you sighed, “With all do respect I think Sapnap could be better severing to the crown if he joined the running party.”

Bad glanced around to the others, looking for any objections before shrugging, “We can find someone else to do the work. So that’ll be you, Technoblade, Sapnap, and we can send the usual scouting party, and Sam shall go with again.”

~~

You sighed, tracing an absent pattern on George’s side, listening to Dream’s ramble about how dangerous the idea that had been decided on at the meeting was.

“Finding peace is the priority, you can’t can’t change that.” George mumbled.

“That doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous!” Dream protested.

“It’ll be fine, We’ll have a perimeter set up with guards and everything. I’ll make sure none of them can even get near him with such intent.” You yawned.

The blonde huffed, “That just makes me more worried.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Your hand blindly sought his, “I’m going to do everything in my power to keep the ceasefire from being broken.”

“I know.” Was the only quiet response you received.

The next morning found you suiting up and heading out to the stables to tack up your horse. Techno was already down there, idly chatting with Phil as he readied Carl for the journey, and out in the courtyard you could see Sapnap talking to two men.

“Good morning, (y/n)!” Phil chirped, waving your direction.

“Morning Phil.” You moved down the row, reaching out and letting Beckerson nuzzle into your palm.

After getting your horse cared for and saddled, the rest of the party had headed out of the stables as your partners entered.

George took your hand, “Don’t start any more trouble.”

“Sounds like your talking to Dream not me.” You chuckled.

“Hey!” Dream protested.

“I’m not wrong!” You teased.

George rolled his eyes, quickly pulling you in for a kiss, “Make things good for me to be out there.”

“Stay out of trouble.” Dream advised, pulling you away from George to kiss you himself.

“You underestimate me.” You smirked, grabbing Bekerson’s reigns.

Dream rolled his eyes as you started to lead the horse out of the stable, calling, “And stay safe!”

“I’ll see you in five days!” You chuckled, heading out of the stables and quickly mounting your horse, kicking at his sides to catch up with the others.

~~ The last few days had been spent anxiously waiting, and now the journey to the norther board was coming to a close.

Dream rode alongside the carriage, eyes following the strange trail of smoke on the horizon; something was wrong, he could feel it.

The quiet, almost calm of the morning was slowly being cut through by a growing noise, and then finally shattered as one of the runners sent ahead to signal their arrival came crashing through the trees looking panicked.

“What’s going on?” Punz asked.

“They attacked! They broke the ceasefire!”

Dream’s brain surged with panic as he turned to where George and his advisors were starting to climb out of the carriage asking why they had stopped, “Turn around! It isn’t safe here! Go! Punz! Tommy! Ponk! Get them out of here!”

Before he could even stop to see if they were following his orders he was rushing forward down the road, urging Spirit to go faster as the road widened into the village.

Dream was met with nothing but chaos, the royal insignia’s on the tents set up in the field were aflame, and the clashing of swords filled his ears as the royal army and the few commoners who could fought back against the pillaging people.

“About time you showed up!” Sapnap yelled from halfway across the field, “We could use some fucking help!”

“No shit!” Dream yelled back, dismounting and unsheathing his sword.

Almost immediately another person came barley towards him, throwing him into combat.

He cut his way across the field, taking down people here and there, still searching the carnage for you.

Eventually he made it to where Sapnap had just disarmed and knocked out another opponent, “Where are they?”

His eyes danced around the wreckage, “Could be anywhere, saw ‘em trying to get the townspeople out of the way.”

Dream cursed, running off the direction of the village, calling you name.

The fighting continued, the addition of the extra royal guardsmen helping turn the tide of the battle, though Dream still couldn’t locate you on the battle field.

The invaders, or what was left of there battalion began to retreat, but still Dream could find no sign of you, the now all too quiet valley erupted into noise as another skirmish broke out.

Taking off at a sprint he made it up the hill to find you locked in combat with another warrior.

You panted, throwing up you shield to block another strike from his axe before shoving forward and swing your sword at his spear wielding hand.

He wasn’t excepting this, and the spear clatter out of his hand, the shock on his face giving you enough momentum to keep pushing forward, throwing attack after attack at the man as he edged backward.

You had just managed to shove him to the ground when a cry broke your attention.

“(Y/N)!!”

You turned to see Dream, smiling, words starting to form on your lips as a spear suddenly drove through your chest.

“NO!!!!!” Dream shrieked, charging forward and quickly slashing at the mans throat before turning to where you had fallen in the grass.

“T-that one was your fault.” You mumbled as he did his best to pull your shaking body into his arms, “You-ou had t-to go distract-ing me.”

“I know,” tears flooded his eyes, “It’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna get help.”

You did your best to smile through your fear, “What would G-George say if he saw you here cuddling m- m- me without him? Huh?”

“(Y/n)....”

“Bad time for a joke I guess,” you shaky voice was disrupted by a painful cough wracking your body, “Never real-really planned on being r-r-ran through with a spear this morning.”

“It’s gonna be okay! It’s- it’s gonna be okay!” Dream desperately pushed your hair out of your face, head whipping around to where the royal soldiers were beginning to regroup, “WE- I need a medic! Please! We need a medic!”

It was the first time you’d ever heard him sound so distraught, gently you reached up to his face, “Dream- Clay, leave it alone, they won’t be able to- to do anythi-ng.”

You coughed again as he turned back to you, “Don’t say that! Don’t say that!”

“It’s just my time d-d-darling,” You gasped at the pain brought by him trying to pull you closer, “You- you gotta let go.”

“NO! You’re not gonna die! You’re not gonna leave! I won’t let you!”

“I d- don’t have your permission to d-die?” The spots floating in your vision began to grow larger, blocking out spot of his face, and the sky.

“No! You don’t! You’re not leaving! I’m not letting you!” He said desperately.

“You’ve- g-got too...”

He glared down through the valley, barking out, “I said I need a medic! Someone! Please! They need help!”

There were people hurrying up the hill now, not that you could see, as Dream continued to yell.

The spots began to grow even bigger, merging together until darkness fully overtook you and you slipped from there grasp, “I’m sorry...”

Dream tore his gaze from the approaching medical team, looking down at your now limp body, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no-”

“You can’t leave! You- your not allowed to leave us! You- you can’t- I- I didn’t give you permission to die!”

He blubbered, still trying to pull you closer to him, as if he held you tighter you wouldn’t have slipped away.

“You can’t go! I didn’t say you could go! You can’t leave! You can’t.....”

Then people were pulling you away from him, and Sapnap was pulling him up, and leading him away.

~~

“Your highness, news of the attack on the boarder has returned.”

George stopped his anxious pacing a Wilbur led in a scarily calm Technoblade and a visibly shaking Dream into the room, Sapnap still with a firm grip on his shoulder.

“What happened? Where’s (y/n)?”

Dream started to shake more at the mention of your name, and Techno stepped forward, “(y/n)- died in combat two days ago.”

George stayed silent, so he continued, “They died a hero’s death defending our kingdom.”

The king waved them away, “Out, please.”

Wilbur nodded, and quickly Sapnap and Technoblade followed him out of the room, leaving Dream to slowly move toward George, pulling him into his arms, tears coming from both men.

“It was my fault. They were fighting- an- and I distracted them.”

“You- you what?” George croaked.

“I wasn’t thinking,” He said quietly, ducking his head as George pulled away, “Th- they died in my arms George!”

“Wh- what have you done?”

Dream looked at him in shock, “What do you mean?”

“Tell me what happened.” It was a command, said in a way Dream had never heard directed at him.

“I got there- there was fighting, when the fighting died down I still couldn’t find them- then I heard another fight- on the ridge, I got up there, and It seemed like they had won, I yelled there name- and-” He broke off, barley muffling a sob.

“You all but killed them yourself.” George muttered.

“I didn’t- th- I- George.” Dream grappled for words.

“You killed them.”

“I didn’t! George I know it’s my fault, but-”

The King just shook his head, turning and silently stalking out of the room.

~~

The castle seemed to stay in mourning for weeks, the kings council having to take over as the king stayed shut up in his chambers, refusing to talk to anyone.

The King’s Knight became more and more vocal during meetings, providing insight on how to get back at the enemy, amplifying Sapnap’s voice.

Then, as plans were being finalized, Dream was met by another figure as he sat in front of your grave.

“You think this will make up for what you’ve done?” Georges voice was horse, rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in days, though still laced with the same venom as when he’d found out.

Dream nodded, remaining quiet as he traced the hilt of his blade.

“Tomorrow then?”

Again Dream nodded, looking down at the copy of the note that had been sent to the enemy:

‘Holy water cannot stop me now, a thousand armies couldn’t keep me out. I don’t want your money, I don’t want your crown, see I’ve come to burn your kingdom down’

[theanimeview]

Hazbin Hotel's Double Plot: Charlie and Angel Dust - Or - Why Charlie and Angel Dust are Both Main Characters (And I love one more than the other)

By: Peggy Sue Wood | @peggyseditorial​

Welcome to Storytelling Class, everyone. Now, who remembered to brush up on their Shakespeare? No one? Not to worry, Prof. Peggy (not official... yet) is going to explain it all anyway with a bunch of unnecessary questions she plans to answer for you. Ready? 

Here's a question: What is a double plot? 

It's a more common occurrence in storytelling than you may think and is sometimes mistaken for subplot though the two are not the same. Shakespeare used double plots in several of his works, though King Lear is the most common example. We generally call a double plot structure that which takes two stories with combined plotlines. The two stories could stand alone but are purposefully combined to depict complex situations mirroring each other, often to comment upon or reinterpret events that transpire in other dramatic situations. "Often this takes the form of relatively minor characters and plotlines doubling events and situations from the 'main' dramatic narrative" (Reinke 1, LINK). The main characters of the "second" plot are often supporting characters in the "main" story and vice-versa, meaning that the main characters in the "main" story may act as supporting characters in the "second" plot. 

Subplots have entirely different focuses that ultimately guide the main plot, such as on a hero's quest, the hero's party must split into groups to find different items for a magical spell. Following the group that went away from the party in different chapters is an example of a subplot, as this is a subordinate "plots" that serve the progression of the main one. A good indicator of a double plot instead of a subplot is figuring out whether or not the two plots could stand alone.

John Lithgow, far left, with Clarke Peters in the Shakespeare in the Park production of "King Lear" at the Delacorte Theater. Credit: Sara Krulwich/The New York Times

Using King Lear as an example, our "main" plot features King Lear as the main character of his tragedy, and the "second" plot features  Lord Gloucester in a tragedy mirroring King Lear's story. In both plots, the main characters suffer from their past choices. A more modern example would be that of Netflix's Russian Doll, in which we follow two distinctive main characters suffering from, and traversing, a similar path. We can define them as double plots because splitting the two stories in each work to create separate works with connected characters would still work. (Essentially, the two stories of each work can stand alone--we don't need to know what is happening to Lord Gloucester to get what is going on in King Lear's story. It helps to know that Lord Gloucester's story, but it is not required to understand Lear's story since what will be important to Lear’s plot will be revealed to Lear’s character later on.) 

Another example of a double plot structure in a modern work would be that of Hazbin Hotel--let's discuss. 

We often define a plot by three things. First, the main character; second, the question that said character needs to answer; and, third, the problem(s) that led them to seek an answer to the asked question. In a double plot, you have to answer the first and third questions twice, which we can easily do with Hazbin Hotel. 

Let's start with Question 1. Who is/are the main character(s)? I've stated that it is Charlie and Angel Dust, but why? Two reasons. The first is how each character is introduced, and the second is that they are both asking the same question, though with different reasons behind it.

In the Prologue/Chapter 1 of the Hazbin Hotel comic, the first character we are introduced to is Angel Dust. He is our introduction into this fictional world, and his story follows the hero's journey narrative making him one of the main characters and defining his story as at least one, if not the main, plot in our double plot structure. Charlie is one of the two main characters for the same reasons. She also appears in that first chapter near the end (just like King Lear, who comes in after Lord Gloucester's introduction), and is beginning a hero's journey of her own. Both their stories ask the same question but have different reasons for seeking the answer.

Beginning with Angel Dust, we see that his story starts in a comfort zone--that zone being a criminal lifestyle shown with him trying to make a deal with some demonic mafioso-looking dudes. We soon find out that he's actually acting out despite appearing comfortable in this kind of situation because he what? Wants something, that's right (I knew you were a smart cookie). 

When the deal with the mafia-demons doesn't go so well, we see him thrown into a familiar though much worse situation with his abuser and pimp, Valentino. This is our introduction to the main problems in Angel's current life, the issues that are making him want something outside of his comfort zone. To get what he wants, Angel must enter an unfamiliar, perhaps dangerous, territory and adapt to it until he achieves the goal or fails trying, and the person that provides the opportunity for entering the unfamiliar world, the Hazbin Hotel, is Charlie.

With Charlie's introduction at the end of chapter one, we begin seeing her hero's journey unfold. At present (her meeting Angel Dust), she is seen in her comfort zone. She's in a chauffeured limo with her bodyguard girlfriend, comfortably giving money to Angel Dust and acting as a somewhat naive and rather hopeful princess you might find in any fairytale story. She wants something but has yet to enter the unfamiliar situation (at least until episode 1, where Alistar steps in but that's not important right now). This closes the comic, but perfectly sets up the double plot narrative moving forward, thus helping to identify our two main characters.

What fully defines them as the main characters, my second reason for claiming both Angel Dust and Charlie to be one, is that second question we have for defining plot (the question that the main character needs to answer).

Charlie says that the goal, or question she seeks to answer, is whether or not a sinner can be redeemed once they find themselves in Hell; however, I would argue that the real question is whether or not salvation (preservation or deliverance from harm, ruin, or loss) is possible for Hell's population. Charlie's "redemption" is instead a method to seek the answer to the question rather than the question itself. 

I argue this because that seems to be the end-goal Charlie is seeking for the citizens of Hell--salvation from being slaughtered on an annual basis. It is also the goal of Angel Dust, who seeks to be saved from his current life through his own hands or by someone else (though he doesn't seem to believe that someone else would help him without costing him something in return). For those of you wondering, Angel seems to be seeking an escape from many things, such as needing to trade sexual favors to his landlord because Valentino doesn't pay him well, an escape from hunger, and potentially other physical dangers. 

The two are both seeking answers to this question but going about it in somewhat different ways. 

In a recent video by Diregentleman, Why Angel Dust Should Be The Protagonist In Hazbin Hotel (it's brilliant, btw--a highly recommended watch if you have the time because most all his points are great), he argues that because Angel's story is more compelling and interesting, he should be the main character and while I agree that Angel's story is more compelling to myself as a viewer (just as I felt Lord Gloucester's story was far better than King Lear's parts), I still think Charlie's story worth the focus it is given in tandem with Angel Dust's. 

WITH THAT CONCLUDED, I want to talk about my favorite character, Angel Dust! The lesson is over--let's nerd out. 

I have been thinking about this A LOT since Episode 1 came out, and when "Addict" dropped, I was pumped. In October of last year, I uploaded the first draft for the review into the Google file our team shares but had been writing said draft for a long while already, and watching Diregentleman's video pushed me over the edge to scrap the planned post that should have gone up at 7 AM this morning and instead re-write and post this. Because as much as I loath spiders--I LOVE Angel Dust. 

Gosh, where do I begin….

Angel has been beaten down to the point that his character is a tad bit all over the place. Is he the villain? Sort of? At least, he comes off as one since he's not working very hard to fulfill his end of the bargain with Charlie and since he is a demon--but he also has qualities that are very much fitting the "redemption" Charlie is aiming for without any prompting. In fact, it's what made him so likable to me before the music video release of "Addict"--which just made me love him more. What do I mean?

Well, in the first episode, we see him just coming back from prostituting himself--a job he appears to be forced to do by Valentino (one of the big-bads of Viziepop's Hell):

Valentino: Did you get my money, Angie Baby?

Angle: I'm wittha John now [sic]. I don't get why this needed to happen so soon after the extermination tho, Boss

Valentino: Just do it. No sass k sugar.

Angle: yes Val

He then buys drugs, which get stolen only to see a large piece of a building fall onto the would-be thief. Is he worried about the thief? No. Angel is only concerned with the drugs. Immediately after that, he joins a turf war with a friend of his, Cherri Bomb, and participates in wrecking what remains of the city from the previous night's purging (when Angels descend upon Hell and kill off a bunch of Hell's populous).

Cherri is his friend, and it is at this moment, we see his first redeeming quality in the animated pilot--a self-sacrificing protective nature for a friend. How? You may ask, well, Angel is shown saving Cherri. It happens when Angel sees a weapon pointed at them, something that Cherri doesn't notice. He pushes her out of the way, unsure of what may happen, thereby allowing himself to be captured (or potentially injured) instead of her. 

That's self-sacrificing and is generally considered a "righteous" quality. 

It's not like she could be killed--they're already dead and, from what we've learned, the already dead demons of Hell can only be killed by weapons the angels use or that which is made of the material angels use during the culling period that just ended the night before. The egg creature is not using one of these weapons at this moment, meaning that Cherri is not in danger of death, only injury. 

Despite knowing that Cherri would ultimately be fine, Angel pushes her out of the way and takes the injury risk. (If he suspected that the weapon might kill her, then even more kudos to him here as that means he threw his life before his friend's.) This moment shows that Angel does value life outside of himself, which doesn't immediately come across when we meet him given the crushed thief moment we had prior. 

This act of self-sacrificing, which is generally considered a virtue, shows that he has potential to change. 

Expanding from this, we see him empathizing with Charlie and expressing a moment of guilt. The scene happens after Angel, Charlie, and Vaggy return to the hotel. Angel is presented with the opportunity to "change" (offer an apology to Charlie that he actually means), an opportunity he doesn't take, but the fact that he's considering it when he previously felt no guilt for his actions shows that he is capable of it.

Once Alistar comes into play, we see more of Angel's potential to change. For example, Angel is shown holding Vaggy back from attacking Alistar, which could be read in two ways. Either he holds her back because he doesn't want Alistar to leave (unlikely that Alistar would leave over Vaggy's attack), or Angel is preventing Vaggy from running at Alistar and potentially getting hurt, a very strong possibility that we learn through Vaggy's comment about how powerful the Radio Demon is and how he's grappled bigger demons on a larger scale to take over parts of the underworld.

If we're to believe the story elements pictured in the music video of "Addict," then Angel is in a horrible spot. He's being abused and treated like a working slave to Valentino with little hope of escape on his own and few options to reach out to for help (if one can even ask for help openly in Hell given the place and the people).

While Charlie is nice, shown by her giving Angel money and helping him avoid having to sell himself on the street that night for Valentino in the Prologue/Chapter 1 of the comic, she too has expectations for him or does it with an ulterior motive in mind. He's a big name in Hell, and she wants him for her program. While it may not be intentional, Charlie asking him to try the program in exchange for money sends the same message Angel points out during the offer: Nothing is free--even kindness, particularly from the Princess of Hell. No matter how cute and lovable she appears...

Charlie's story is less compelling, and it's not simply because she comes from a place of privilege, as I've heard some say. I mean, I love lots of stories with the rich and powerful, and if the many seasons of Dynasty can stand as an example--so do a lot of over people. Charlie's story is less compelling because we can't relate to her choices given the situation we see her in or the problems she's facing. For example, she has great political power that goes completely unused. She's a princess of hell, obviously not struggling too much since she's chauffeured around and seen atop a tall--safe--tower overlooking the purged city below in Episode 1. She isn't in a bad situation, from what we can tell, not the same way Angel Dust is, at least. Her problems are more like a passion project from what we've seen so far, and we don't know why she is motivated to make this redemption program work outside of wanting to help her people. But if she wants to help people, why the hotel? 

She has power as a princess that she could use to help correct injustices in her kingdom, such as attempting to put an end to the turf-wards since it seems that the demons fighting for territory still follow and respect the royals and nobility to some degree. But, instead, she's created a program to change people into what she thinks is Heaven's ideal--a thing that may stop the culling by allowing demons to transition out into what? Angels? Spirits? Who knows. Regardless, it's a small-scale venture that doesn't attempt to use the influence she's been given to make sincere changes in the kingdom. Instead, she uses it to get publicity on a news station, and even that is a weak attempt. I mean, if she was doing this right, that new-caster shouldn't have been able to make a single nasty comment towards her during the whole process. I mean, I doubt the newscast would have said a thing had her parents been up there, which shows that she's walked all over and that she's let it happen.

My point is that Charlie's story doesn't yet make sense. It's harder for us, the audience, to put ourselves in her shoes than it is with Angel Dust, and that's why I love him more than other characters, and certainly more than his double plot counterpart, Charlie. 

I look forward to seeing more of this series going forward and hope that Episode 2 comes out soon!

[readyplayerhobi]

My Soul To Reap

; Reaper!Hoseok x Harpy!Reader

; Genre: Angst, fluff, smut

; Word Count: 31k

; Warnings: Death, violence, mild gore, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie

; Synopsis: A reaper is neither alive nor dead, in this world or the next. Their purpose is to remove the souls of humans and help them pass to the next world. They are not meant to interact with the living for their touch is the ice of the grave and their kiss is to greet death. They are not meant to love.

; A/N: This is a behemoth...sorry it’s so long lol. I hope you all enjoy, I’ve been working on this for over a month now! Please reblog (if you can) so that others can see and read too. Please leave me likes, comments and asks to let me know what you think as I spent so long on it x-x also, remember to check out the other authors in the collab!

; Part of the Fantastical Tales for Curious Souls collab

-

The street is quiet when he appears; the air still and dead around him. Houses of varying shapes and sizes line the well trodden street before him, lamps with flickering flames dancing inside them hanging from poles and houses to light the way. Behind him lies a dense and foreboding forest, their trunks wide and their height tall as they tower over the small town like vigilant sentinels keeping an eternal watch.

But none of that is of particular interest to Hoseok. No, what interests him lies in the ramshackle house in front of him, the facade old with the thatched roof aging badly, threatening to fall through in some places. It wouldn’t be anything special to look at normally, the size and style of it denoting it to be the abode of someone from a lower class.

Hoseok had never understood why humans had such an interest in the cultural standing of others based on social hierarchy and money. It all seemed such a waste of their time to fret over such mundane things. Everyone died poor in the end as no one took anything with them when they passed. He knew that better than anyone.

Yet Hoseok finds he feels almost sad at the house, knowing that it had such an unassuming and unloved life. He wonders for a moment what will become of it before shaking his head, pushing the querying thought out of his mind. The daily lives of mortals were not his domain and therefore they were not of interest to him.

Between one blink and the next, the scenery around Hoseok changes as he shifts through time and reality to appear inside the small home. It’s even smaller on the inside, with a single bed pushed into the corner and a table covered in books to the side. There’s a moment that Hoseok wants to look at them, but he ignores it instead for the human male lying in the bed.

A small sense of relief runs through the reaper as he realises this was a natural death, something that would not be as alarming to the human compared to being murdered or suffering an accident. Over the years, Hoseok had found that humans didn’t react well to being killed, whether on purpose or by accident. Even if it had no bearing on them once they were dead.

But still, it made the process easier.

The siren call of death that guides Hoseok around the world to his intended humans increases now he’s so close, the pull in his veins almost heady as it demands he does his duty. And so he gives in, as he always does, moving over to the male and crouching down beside the ancient bed.

The human’s wrist is warm in Hoseok’s hand, but that doesn’t surprise him. His own body runs somewhere between alive and dead in terms of temperature. It’s a benefit when dealing in scenarios that could potentially cause injury to him. For Hoseok is a reaper, a being who straddles life and death. His job is simple; to take the life of those dying and pull their souls from their bodies before escorting them to the other side. It was macabre, but it was also a necessary part of life.

And this human’s time had come.

Lifting the human’s hand, Hoseok laid his lips on the smooth skin gently and kisses. It was not sexual or romantic, in fact it was the exact opposite. A reaper’s kiss was the kiss of death, the final severing of a soul from life.

He pauses for a second with his lips pressed to the warm skin that is already cooling from his touch before he moves away, looking down at the body with an impassive glance before tugging at the hand. There's a slight resistance, there always is as a soul never wants to leave their body, but he can’t resist the grasp of Hoseok.

His hand falls back to the bed almost unnoticed, for the soul’s hand remains in Hoseok’s own. A gentle pull has the human’s soul standing next to him, looking around in confusion at his surroundings before looking at Hoseok, his brow creasing.

A human would not be able to see him if they looked now, only able to see the dead body lying in the bed. But to Hoseok, he has a silver aura that surrounds him lovingly, signalling that this is someone who has left the mortal realm. 

“What is your name?” Hoseok asks quietly, making sure to keep his tone as warm and pleasant as he can. Death is traumatic for humans, and an unexpected death like this could likely lead to further confusion and possibly even anger despite it being natural. It was better to treat them carefully.

The soul blinks rapidly before frowning. “Jimin. Park Jimin. What…” He looks down at the body on the bed with eyes that widen in fear before he’s crouching, trying to touch the body he had once inhabited desperately. “What is wrong with me? Is this a dream? Why am I there but here?”

Hoseok laid a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, noting the way he cringed away from him slightly but not making comment on it. “Jimin...I am afraid to say that you have passed on from the mortal world. Your soul has left your body and cannot return. I am here to help you move on.”

“What...what do you mean? Who are you? What are you? I have passed...I have truly died?” The questions were common, and Hoseok was pleased with how it seemed that Jimin was not going to be one to argue or try to fight. A soul fighting a reaper never worked out well for the soul.

“Yes, you have died. My name is Hoseok and I am a reaper, your reaper. I ended your life because the Fates have cut your thread and so I pulled your soul from physical body. Now you must move on from here to the other side.” Jimin looks around, slim shoulders curling in to make himself appear smaller.

“What is the other side? Is that heaven? Or hell? Or something else?” Hoseok shrugged in response, the gesture remarkably human for a being who had no humanity.

“I do not know. My job does not involve anything that happens once you have moved on. I am simply meant to get you there.” The soul begins to pace in agitation, running his hand through his hair as his face pinches together in distress.

“But what if I do not want to? Can you make me go if I do not want to go?” Hoseok lets out a deep sigh, lips pursing slightly in annoyance and he only just manages to stop the eye roll. Even though he does not communicate with humans apart from at this moment in their lives, he has managed to pick up on a few of their mannerisms.

Every soul thinks they don’t have to move on, but Hoseok knows that it’s no real life to remain. “I cannot make you go. Moving on is the choice of the soul, but I do not recommend remaining behind. If you do, then you cannot move on until you have completed whatever it is that you feel you need to do. And if you do not complete it...then you can never move on and you will haunt this place forevermore. I would not recommend staying behind simply because you do not want to go.”

His words cause Jimin to pause, and Hoseok isn’t sure whether it’s the grave tone of voice he uses or the words themselves. Whatever it is, the reaper hopes that Jimin will think hard about his choice, because as soon as he leaves this room then he will never see Jimin again.

“Can I...can I leave this house?” His voice is soft and gentle, meek compared to the brief moment of fierceness that he’d given earlier. 

“No. You will be tethered to the place of your death. So think hard Jimin. Once I leave, I shall never come back and you will be forced to try and move on by yourself.” Hoseok crosses his arms over his chest, the coal black suit he wears straining slightly on his shoulders. 

There's a pause as Jimin thinks, his eyes tracing over the reaper slowly. No doubt he’ll see what every other soul sees; ink black hair swept off his forehead carelessly, a beautiful and statuesque face that almost glows gold in the light of the frozen fire and a black suit that clings to him. He probably looks like a normal human, if it wasn’t for his eyes.

Hoseok’s eyes are pale, a colour between ice blue and dove grey that glows almost white from the unearthly energy he channels. He could never pass as a human with his eyes.

“I will go. I do not...I do not want to be alone forever,” He pauses, looking frightened before gesturing back towards his body, trying to avoid looking at it understandably. “What will happen to my body?”

“It will be found when it is found. That is not my concern, nor should it be yours now. Are you ready to move on?” His voice takes on an abruptly formal tone, standing straight and almost smiling as Jimin does that same for some reason. The soul nods hesitantly before doing so again, more forcefully this time.

“Yes. I mean...no...but it does not matter. Th-thank you...Hoseok. Sir.” With that, Hoseok gestures to his side and the space ripples, the imagery behind it blurring as reality tears on itself. The room grows colder and Hoseok is positive that if Jimin were still alive, his face would pale further. But he doesn’t complain, and instead just looks at Hoseok for reassurance.

“I cannot guarantee you will be okay. But nor can I guarantee you will not. This is for you to discover Park Jimin. I wish you will with whatever happens.” Jimin swallows thickly, blinking a few times before nodding. He hesitates a moment longer before taking a deep breath, that he didn’t anymore, and walking through the gap. 

Instantly it slams shut, the force reverberating in Hoseok’s bones and he feels the welcome satisfaction of warmth inside as the death calls recedes finally, letting him know that he has done his job and can leave. Within the space of a breath, he vanishes from the small house and re-appears on the street outside.

Looking back at the dilapidated house, Hoseok sighs deeply and hopes that Jimin’s body will be found quickly before letting go of his power that is holding the world frozen in place. All at once, life returns around him, even though he cannot hear or see much due to the darkness of the night. It had taken less than five minutes for him to complete his job and he felt a sense of satisfaction.

Hoseok’s job was done, and he was free to roam once more until he felt the call of death again. It could be considered a numbing experience, but he had nothing else to compare it to and so simply accepted it as his way of life.

A strong and insistent tugging in his stomach caused him to pause in place though, the part that connects him to death telling him that his services are needed once again. Frowning, he looks to his left at the towering trees as their branches sway gently in the night breeze, leaves rustling quietly.

The pull is strong and insistent, and it’s coming from inside the forest. It’s unusual for him to be required so soon after a reaping, but he can only assume that it’s because he’s so close. Either way, he knows that he must do his duty and so closes his eyes, pulling at the cold, deadly power within him and travelling along that pull to his destination.

When his eyes open once more, not even a second later, he’s at the scene of another death. Only this one causes his brow to furrow in confusion as he takes in what’s happening around him. The ancient trees of the forest tower high above him, their living canopy providing shade in the sunlight but bringing the scene to almost near darkness in the middle of the night as it was now.

Silver slivers of moonlight dapple the ground around him, the light struggling to make itself seen through the dense foliage but it’s more than enough for Hoseok to see what’s happening. Not that he understands it, but then again...he doesn’t particularly understand humans as it is.

Everything is frozen around him as usual; no sounds fill the empty space and no movement stirs the air. He knows that he must be quick, for he does not have an infinite store of power to use and already he can feel the slight pressure building in his skull. His head tilted to the side slightly though as he tries to comprehend what he’s looking at, black hair falling into his pale blue eyes.

Sods of dirt float in the air, simply waiting for time to resume and for them to carry on their descent back towards the earth they’d been pulled from. Two human men stand around a body on the ground, their faces unseeable in the darkness but it’s the man on the floor that interests Hoseok the most.

A human male, dressed in what Hoseok believed to be hunting leathers, is on his knees while a knife tinged in dark liquid gleams in the poor light of the moon. A wide brimmed hat covers his face from view but a quick glance underneath reveals dark eyes that have narrowed with anger.

No, not anger, Hoseok corrects himself quietly before standing. There's a perverse look of pleasure in this human’s eyes and a complete lack of remorse. Without even meaning to, Hoseok shudders ever so slightly before sneering at the man.

Human’s shy away from Hoseok. Something about him unnerves them deeply, as if they can sense the pull of death so close. His eyes frighten them even more, the pale rings around his dark pupils unnatural and bright; the eyes of death looking back.

But Hoseok is never malicious; he takes lives because it is simply their time as decreed by the Fates. It’s his job, his purpose; the very thing he was brought into this world to do, and he accomplishes it without prejudice. Good and evil, young and old, men and women. All die the same way in the end, with the kiss of a reaper.

This human though, this man...he is a purveyor of death like Hoseok. But they are not the same. This man kills for joy, for pleasure, for the thrill of it. His eyes are empty of humanity, full of sick perversement. Hoseok may be a reaper, but he thinks this man’s eyes are truly death incarnate. A painful, slow and torturous death.

Lips pouting, Hoseok looks down at the woman on the ground who is the victim of this disgusting excuse of oxygen and living matter. And he pauses, body freezing as still as the scenery surrounding him while his eyes widen.

Blood smears your back, dark and wet as it pools down the sides of your ribcage from two deep gashes in your back. They run parallel to your spine, along your shoulder blades for a few inches and he stares in fascinated confusion for a moment, strong brows coming together. What was the human doing? And why did your back look so-

He’s distracted from the questions that run through his mind when his shift in position causing something to catch the poor light, the objects shimmering an odd blue-black that somehow stands out even amongst all this darkness. Walking closer to the strange shapes at the foot of one of the other men, his own shoes causing the foliage and fallen branches to crack underneath his feet loudly against the silence of the world, he tries to make out what they are.

This was perhaps the strangest scene of death that Hoseok had ever come across, and he wasn’t sure what was going on. The man he who’s soul he was supposed to escort looked very much like he was alive and healthy, not someone who required a reaper’s sole service. And the woman...what was going on there?

Reaching the black shapes, he crouches down and tilts his head in fascination. His hand reaches out without him even realising, his fingertips running along the soft feathers that make up the large wings discarded onto the floor. They’re soft and lifeless, the arch of them still warm and he traces down to their ends in reverence. 

They end bluntly, ragged flesh still hanging on while cracked bone gleams at him, startlingly white even through the red smears. Looking back towards the woman, Hoseok stares in confusion as he slowly pieces together what he thinks is happening in his mind.

He knew that there were rumours of the supernatural in the human world; stories that scared villagers told each other to keep them safe at night or legends that were passed from parent to child throughout the centuries. Whether it was true or not, he hadn’t had any reason to disbelieve it given what he was.

But he had never encountered someone who was supernatural. Also supernatural. Like him. 

Reapers were solitary. They were born into the world fully formed when needed as the human population grew. He had entered the world long ago, appearing in a forest much like this one. He had only known three things upon his arrival; his name, what he was and what he had to do.

His instincts had kicked in almost immediately when he arrived, the alluring call of death causing him to automatically transport himself to the location without reason. Everything else had happened just as easily, as his body knew what to do. No one had taught him, and he had learnt about the world through careful study in the shadows or the world between that he was in now.

The only time he ever met another reaper was at the site of a large number of deaths, and even then they didn’t bother to communicate. He felt no kinship towards his kind, and he often wondered why that was. Everything else on this planet seemed to be driven to companionship at some point, even if only for procreation.

But not him.

And just as he was a story to humans, the woman on the floor was a story to him. Only you were as real as he was. 

Moving back over to you, he pays close attention to your body and notices the subtle differences between you and the humans. The black nails that are sharpened into lethal claws, the white teeth that were ever so slightly pointed and the solid black eyes that spoke of anger and death. The last point causes him to jerk slightly, eyes widening as he realises you are not dead but very much alive.

And there is no call of death coming from you, which means you will not die yet.

A sudden need for violence fills him as he takes in the pain on your face, the anger at your loss of control and the savage glee on the human’s face. Monster hunters, they have to be. Hoseok had only ever thought these humans went on pointless hunts, chasing fantasies.

How wrong he was.

Hoseok had never once taken a life in anger or violence. He was the epitome of a perfect reaper; he killed when it was their time and only when it was their time. But he wanted to kill them all in this clearing. All of them, for hurting you, a woman who was special like him and whose only crime was being different.

Shame filled him momentarily as he acknowledged his lapse in control, recognised the sheer bloodlust that filled him and how badly he wanted to be like this horrible excuse of a human and to hurt. But then he paused, realising that the pull of death was still emanating from the man.

Another scan around confirmed his earlier suspicions; there was no sign of anything that could kill, or even hurt him. So why had Hoseok been called here? Why was this man’s soul ready to leave?

He stiffened as realisation entered him. Hoseok was supposed to take this man’s soul, yes. He was supposed to provide the kiss of death and lead his soul to the afterlife. His thread had been cut by fate and he was simply waiting to die now. But it was Hoseok who was to be his cause of death. The real cause, not natural causes or murder or an accident.

Hoseok was meant to kill this man, that was the only explanation. A true death by reaper.

Crouching next to him, Hoseok watched him carefully for once. He normally didn’t bother with them like this, but he wanted to remember the first human he was taking on his own. Shame flushed him as he realised he felt guilty at the rush of need he’d felt to hurt this man, knowing that it made him like him and he pushed that need away.

Hoseok needed to be clinical and neutral. He wasn’t sure why fate had decreed he was to have a hand in this human’s demise, but he refused to lower himself to this pitiful creatures level. There would be no pleasure in his death, simply a relief that he had done his duty and removed a vile human from the world.

Reaching forward, he let his fingers trace along the human’s cheek. It was rough with scars and bristly dark hair, unappealing to Hoseok and his lips twisted slightly. With time frozen as it was, there was no change in the human’s skin itself from Hoseok’s touch, but had time been normal then the skin beneath his fingertips would freeze and die.

Humans couldn’t stand the touch of a reaper.

The pull was strong now, a deep and alluring thump that ran through Hoseok’s body like a world class orchestra was playing for him. It was too enticing for him to hold back any longer, the pull demanding the reaper do his job and Hoseok found himself pressing his lips in the lightest touch to the back of the human’s hand. 

He always hated how he had to kiss them in some form, hated the intimacy of it when he wasn’t allowed actual intimacy. Long ago, he’d decided to simply brush his lips across an inoffensive limb or something as it often felt like an invasion of not just their privacy but also an invasion of his own. 

But he knew that it was necessary, as much as he disliked it. For his ‘kiss’ severed the connection of the soul to the human body and instead anchored them to Hoseok for a moment. Once he had pulled them out, the connection was then severed and the soul was free to move on. Or not, if they so choose.

Sure enough, the man’s soul leaves his body easily. He hadn’t been expecting death, and so his soul was confused when it stood before him, looking around the forest with a creased brow before focusing on his own body. He was still knelt on the ground, but as soon as Hoseok let time ago then his body would slump to the side, never to rise again.

“What the fuck?” The man shouted, anger etching itself into every crevice of his ragged face and Hoseok got the impression that this was a man who was used to being obeyed. But not now. “Who the fuck are you? What the fuck is going on? Why am I...there?” 

He points to his physical shell, a touch of panic in his eyes as he stares at Hoseok. For a few seconds, Hoseok let’s his panic build before he sighs internally and deigns to do his job properly. 

“My name is Hoseok, I am a reaper. Your reaper. You are no longer alive, you have left your mortal shell. I am here to guide you to move on to the other side.” Every death was different, and every death resulted in Hoseok trying to give the same information in a way that the soul would understand.

Sometimes he was unerringly polite, particularly with elderly humans who had lived a long and fulfilling life. They were often happy to see him, content to move on. With those who had died unfortunately, he was kind and almost comforting, allowing them time to come to terms with their sudden loss. With children...with children he was sweet and soft, spending more time with them than usual to comfort them and assuage their fright. 

It was hard with children, even for Hoseok who had never been a child. He tried his hardest to make it as easy on them as possible, all the while he quietly mourned yet another loss of a life that could have been something wonderful. He wasn’t sure if reapers were meant to mourn, but it felt wrong not to around the young.

And babies...well...he disliked having to deal with babies the most. 

But with cruel people like this man though, Hoseok was brisk and abrupt. He didn’t particularly care if this man was afraid, because all he could think was how many people this man had likely killed before. Hoseok had no doubt that someone who would willingly torture and kill a rare supernatural being probably also killed humans as well.

The world was a better place without this one in it.

“What? How? I was fine, you...you murdere-...wait...a reaper?” Interest flares in his eyes and Hoseok has to severely restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

Swirling his hand, the space next to him shimmers and wavers, the obvious thinning of the barrier between this world and the next evident even in the darkness of the forest. Hoseok points at it in frustration.

“You cannot kill me and profit off my body. You cannot do anything. If you do not pass, then you will stay in this spot for eternity. Your choice.” There’s a brief pause while the man thinks, his brows twitching once more before his lower lip sticks out petulantly.

“But I want to go back to living.” His tone is almost pitiful, whining and Hoseok bares his teeth suddenly. The paling of the man let’s him know that he’s seen the face of death in Hoseok’s own and he’s glad to see that fear. Never had Hoseok been so infuriated with a human before. “Okay...okay.”

People like this human though are cowardly, and when faced with something that will fight back, they often chose the easy way out. And so without a word, he moves to the barrier and goes to enter before stopping. A glance back to his body is all he does before he glares at Hoseok once more and enters. 

There's an odd fading as he moves through, letting Hoseok see through the soul before the barrier is back and everything is back to normal. Which also means he’s let go of the time freeze. Which in turn, means he’s visible to the other two men suddenly.

The dead man’s body slowly slides to the floor, breaking this shock at the sight of a strange man in their midst and their eyes follow his descent down. The silence that lays heavily between them all is not like the silence of before.

Leaves bristle against each other in the high branches while the soft sound of an owl hunting echoes through the night. It’s the sounds of life, even in a forest as quiet and asleep as this one.

No, this silence is shock and confusion which swiftly turns to anger.

Their gazes move back to him, the perfect image of puzzlement before the one standing near the wings steps forward and points at the fallen man. “What is wrong with him? What did you do?”

“Leave.” Is all Hoseok responds with, his tone low and dark. He knows that it sends their senses haywire as he’s purposefully lowered it until it makes all their innate instincts, bred through centuries of care, scream at them to run from him. Danger, they say, death, they warn.

But these humans are not clever. Humans are not clever in general. If anything, Hoseok has found them to be particularly dumb over the years. Oh, they may think themselves a clever species for reaching such a high and lofty position over everything else on the planet but Hoseok knows better.

He’s seen some of the stupid ways they’ve died.

“Who the fuck are you?” The one furthest away shouts, his voice causing a flurry of movement around them as the creatures of the forest run in fear from the loud noise. Hoseok sneers at him, noting the way he lifts his heavy, wooden crossbow and holds it against his chest. 

Before he can even say anything, the string snaps and all Hoseok hears is a soft whistle before a thudding impact causes him to rock slightly. Looking down, he takes in the crossbow bolt in his chest with interest.

Running his fingers along the fletching, he admires the workmanship for a moment before pulling the bolt out. There's a squelching noise as he does so, the flesh tearing and rending around the sharp metal head as it saws at his flesh on the exit but he doesn’t pay attention.

Lifting his hand up, he shows them the bolt in the weak light and let’s them see the way it glistens with his blood. It’s interesting how he has blood, given he is not alive nor dead. His heart beats, but he can stop it if he wishes. And stopping it does not kill him. He knows that he’s an anomaly in the world but he has no explanations for these things.

The bolt had caused only a minor twinge of pain, more discomfort than anything really. He doesn’t feel pain like a human does, because his body has no reason to fear pain. The loss of blood is simply a mild inconvenience; already he knows the wound in his chest has healed.

The corners of Hoseok’s lips turn up slowly in a grim smile, flesh pressed together as his eyes narrow at the men. His index finger is pressed into the wet heat of his blood on the shaft, and he lets them watch as his skin absorbs the warm liquid back into his body slowly until the bolt is dry once more.

He’s tired of these men now.

Baring his teeth at them, he feels the power of death flow through him in a way he doesn’t normally let it. It’s cool, like a refreshing breeze on a hot summer’s day and it bristles in his body with crackling energy.

Their widening eyes of terror let’s him know that they’re seeing him in his death form. A form that sends humans mad with fear. Hoseok has never known why reapers can do this, but he finds it pleasing that he can now.

His skin bleaches of all colour until he’s as pale as bone while his hair darkens ever further from its usual black, if that’s even possible. It flows slightly in the air, the ends visible in his eyesight as if being whipped by an invisible breeze and he can see how they look almost inky and wet in the poor light of the moon. The white of his eyes darken in turn, becoming an eerie black while his pale blue irises glow with such ferocity that he can see them reflected in their own eyes.

All the while, the skin around his eyes changes as a bruised black spreads along them, creeping down in his cheeks as if he had spilled paint onto his face. The air frosts around them all, delicate ice crystals forming on the plant life around him and the ground cracking as it freezes and Hoseok let’s out an angry hiss.

“Leave. And never come back.” He whispers, the sound amplified despite how quietly he says the words but they’re filled with the promise of death. The two men whimper to themselves, the crossbowman relieving himself accidentally in his trousers in terror before they run screaming into the forest. 

Hoseok doesn’t know where they’re going, nor does he care. He knows they won’t come back. No one ever comes ever looking for a reaper. 

Instead, he turns his attention to the figure on the ground, drawing his power back into him until he simply looks human once more. Crouching beside you, he goes to touch your shoulder to see if you are awake before hesitating.

He’s unsure if his touch will hurt you like it does humans, if he will kill your skin in his attempts to help. Hoseok isn’t even sure how to help you, he’s never helped a human that’s still alive before. But then again, you aren’t human.

Any reservations he has though are gone immediately when you writhe in pain, a quiet and strained groan leaving your throat before your head turns towards him. Eyes watery with tears look up at him and he jolts as your hand reaches out and grasps at his own.

He goes to pull away, afraid that he’s hurt you but you don't cry out in pain or jerk away from him. Instead...your touch is warm in his hand. Frowning, he looks down at them in fascination, realising that he’s never had someone alive hold his hand willingly. He’s never even touched anyone alive without it being for the purpose of bringing death to them.

It feels odd, the warmth of your skin delightful beneath his but then his eyes catch on yours again and he sees the pain there. Instantly he frowns, feeling shame at his fascination but you squeezes his hand gently.

“Thank you...for that,” Her words are quiet, rasping and he gets the sense that you had been screaming. A glance at the open wounds on your back make him wince slightly, knowing that you probably went through excruciating agony. “I thought...they were...going...to kill me.”

Hoseok bites his lip, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head slightly. “It was not your time to die. It was his,” He gestures back towards the dead man before pointing at the mound of wings. “Are those...your wings? What are you? I am sorry...do you know somewhere we can go? That I can get you too, a healer perhaps?”

You let out a pained laugh, face screwing up as you try to push yourself up and Hoseok helps your immediately, carefully placing his hands on your arms and making sure you don't strain the wounds too badly. They begin to bleed down your back and he lets out a quiet breath, wondering how he can stop them from bleeding.

The front of your dress is still near enough intact with your collar still wrapped around your neck, the fabric of the back torn apart in their desperation to get to your wings. You staggered slightly, leaning against him and he holds you steady, marvelling at you once more.

“I have a...cabin. It is half...an hour away. North...near the mountainside.” Hoseok nods and frowns, wondering how on earth you're going to last what would have been a half hour walk for a fit and well person. In your condition, it will take much longer.

“I can...I think I can transport us closer...but I cannot take us directly there because I do not know where it is. Do you...need your wings?” He sounded awkward, but he wasn’t entirely sure how he was meant to talk to you. Hoseok didn’t even know what you were.

You look over at them with a forlorn look, lips being bitten until he’s sure you’re going to shed blood before sighing and shaking your head. “No...there is...there is no point. I cannot...they are gone now. Forever,” Hoseok isn’t sure what to say to that, unsure how you can console someone losing such an intricate part of themselves. “Can you...do you have a...way to burn them? I do not...want them...found.”

He hears the pain in your voice, but this time it’s not from the physical. It’s from the acknowledgement that instead of taking them with you, a part of you that had probably always been with you, you were going to have to burn them so no malicious humans could try and profit off them. Hoseok felt sad at that, at the loss of something so beautiful but he understands your wants.

“Not now...but if you have something at your cabin then I can come back and take care of them for you.” His words are quiet and gentle, causing you to smile ever so slightly. It’s strained, but Hoseok takes it as a success because it makes some of the agony in your eyes ease a little.

“Okay...okay. Take us...as close. To the base...of Mount Taga, please.” You lean into him heavily suddenly and he gets the impression that you’re losing energy rapidly. He has no doubt that it’s taking a lot of energy and pure willpower to keep yourself on your feet with how much pain you must be in, not to mention how unbalanced you must be after losing something so large.

Instead of saying anything, he simply nods and carefully places his hands on either shoulder. He’s never transported someone before, but he doesn’t see any reason why he can’t. Hoseok knows he can take things with him, he’s tried it before just to see if it was possible. He’s even taken a rabbit with him on occasion, just to experiment.

But this? This was different.

His last thought before he goes is that he’s oddly excited to spend a little more time with you, even though you don’t know each other at all and have met under such horrible circumstances. But he’s never had contact like this before, and he wants to make sure you are safe and well. He feels an obligation to ensure your safety for some reason.

This was most definitely not how he expected his day to go.

-

Despite Hoseok transporting you both close to the base of the mountain, the journey to your cabin still takes an hour with how slowly you walk. He wants to lift you up into his arms and carry you, knowing that he could move much faster on his own. But he’s unwilling to suggest it to you.

Partially because he’s not even sure how one asks a random injured woman if they would like to be carried, partially because he’s not sure he can even hold you without causing you further injury given the placement of your deep wounds and partially because he’s still not quite used to the concept of actually touching someone without causing them great pain.

Although, he supposes, if he did try to carry you then he would probably cause you pain anyway because of the gashes inflicted by humans. He frowns slightly as he thinks about that, but the tug of his arm by your warm hands distracts him and he looks down, concern written on his face as you suddenly lean even further into him, exhaustion slowing your entire body down.

The hour long journey had gone in silence, neither of you willing to talk for some reason. Hoseok just plain wasn’t sure what to talk about, he’d never had to do small talk before, whereas he was sure you were simply focusing hard on not collapsing to the ground. You’d done it twice already and by now, the pace was so slow that Hoseok was sure he was barely moving.

“We are here.” You whisper quietly, your voice cracked and he has the sudden urge to get you some water. But he simply looks around, trying to find wherever this cabin of yours is when you wave a hand in a slow yet complicated gesture. The space in front of him shimmers for a moment, reminding him of the heat of a desert, before the scenery suddenly changes and a wooden cabin stands before him.

It’s not big, but neither is it too small. A dark, wood door stands in the centre while two windows, shuttered for the moment with stars cut into the boards, take place on either side. More windows are dotted around the side of the cabin and the thatched roof leads up to a chimney. It doesn’t look like lived in itself, and he gets the impression it’s very old, but neither does it look abandoned. 

He’s reminded momentarily of Jimin’s home, casually noting how much better this house has been kept in repair before chastising himself for looking down on a mortal who was now deceased.

It wouldn’t be possible to presume this home was abandoned though, given the sturdy fencing that surrounds the whole area with one fence post just a mere metre ahead of him. He’s relieved that you had uncovered the area when you did, otherwise he would have walked into it. Behind the house, he can see a whole range of vegetation that look to be carefully tended to while brown and white chickens cluck loudly as they walk around the enclosure, pecking at the floor and each other in annoyance.

A group of pigs is penned off in one corner while a few cows graze on the sparse land a little further on. He’s thrown for words, unable to comprehend what he was seeing and he looked down at you with a frown, wondering what you were specifically given your ability to manipulate what had to be magic so easily.

You don’t say anything though, instead just moving through the gate as you slowly and painfully made your way to the cabin. The chickens immediately get louder, rushing over to you and you murmur something to them that he can’t hear. As you finally reach the door, a sleek black cat comes running from the forest, meowing loudly and curling around your legs in a desperate bid for attention.

Perhaps you’re a witch? But he’s never come across a witch who actually had any ability, nor did he think they had the same...physical attributes that you did. Though what did he know about witchcraft really?

The door opens with a gentle creak and he follows you inside, looking around the space with raised yet interested brows. It’s a reasonable living space but nothing flashy or big like he has seen with the humans. In fact, it reminds him of the houses that humans used to live in centuries ago. At least, those who were not rich anyway.

A makeshift wash basin and counter sit before one set of windows, shutters opening as he pushes them to let through the gentle light from outside. The clearing your home inhabits means that there’s more sun here than he’s seen in a while, the trees far enough back that he can see the towering mountain range beyond them.

Against the wall next to what he presumes is your kitchen area is a fireplace, a well used pot hanging over the now cold wood and kindling. On the other side of the room is a large double bed, pressed up against the wall. A warm, handmade quilt lies on top of it and Hoseok wonders if perhaps you have made it yourself. It looks of good quality, if a little threadbare from use.

A rug in a similar fashion lays on the floor next to the bed, protecting your feet from the cold winter months no doubt and he idly notes the small touches that make this cabin a home for you. The drying herbs hung on a rack that dangles from the ceiling next to the tiny kitchen, pressed and dried flowers that have been carefully arranged into a frame while an elegant tapestry of a scene he doesn’t understand hangs by your bed.

There are other small oddities dotted around the place that let him know you’ve lived here a while, incricate geodes and crystals placed carefully on shelves or cupboards alongside small pieces of pottery. It only takes a small glance for him to know that everything here is old, and he idly wonders how old you are.

The air is filled with the pleasing scent of fragrant herbs and he inhales deeply, enjoying how nice everything smells when it could quite easily smell stale from age. But then his attention is back onto you and how you limp towards the small table with two aged chairs in the corner.

A stack of well read books is piled atop it alongside parchment, ink and quill. He wonders what you were doing, realising that the books are a mixture of history, medicine and even pure fiction. You don’t seem to notice them though as you practically collapse into the chair, crying out as the movement jarrs your wounds and he winces as fresh blood begins to seep through once more.

“Do you...err...I am afraid I do not know what to do? Tell me...what do I need to help you?” He bends over beside you, concern painted on his face and laced in his voice as his hand hovers nervously on your shoulder. There’s no lie there, his job was to take people’s lives, not save them. So he found himself in the odd situation where he was suddenly trying to do the exact opposite.

“Water...get clean water. Heat it on the fire...to sterilise it. Clean rags...there should be...a pot beneath the counter...black with purple cream. Take it…” He nods immediately, even though you can’t see from where you’ve slumped against the table and goes to begin moving before pausing with wide eyes.

“Where do I get water?” In all the centuries that Hoseok has lived, he has never felt more useless or stupid than he has right now. But he won’t let his insecurity over what he’s doing get in the way; he’s determined to help you. Even if he messes things up.

“Stream...behind.” You don’t say anymore and he simply acknowledges it, taking the initiative to get a move on as you seem to be struggling. Before he goes forth with getting anything that you’d told him though, he transports himself back to your wings as quickly as he can before taking them and disposing of them inside an active volcano that he knows of in Italy.

It might seem a little extreme but he couldn’t think of anywhere else that wouldn’t be obtrusive. Still, he felt sadness as he watched the beautiful black feathers slowly disappear as they burnt, feeling the need to at least watch as part of you died forever.

Transporting back though, he noted your heavy breathing and quickly set about grabbing everything you needed. A fire was set, after a few aborted attempts, before he ran out to the stream behind the cabin that you had told him of, passing by the cows who mooed at him in interest. He ignored them though and followed his ears towards the bubbling water that danced its way through the forest, the vegetation here vibrant and bright from the easy source of hydration.

It takes him ten minutes before he thinks he’s got the water heated right for you, heading back over and placing the bowl on the table next to you. Steam rises from it while a pile of clean, white rags sits next to the bowl from where he’s torn up a dress of yours he’d found and the pot of cream is beside that. He’d feel bad about the dress but he’s pretty sure you’re not bothered about it.

There’s no need for you to tell him what to do at this point thankfully; he might not know a lot but even he can figure out what you need him to do. But it’s a little awkward for him as the blood from your wounds has stained your dress badly, drying into stiffness and there’s even a piece that has dried into the wound itself. 

“I’m...I’m sorry, but I think you need to take your dress off. Do you have something else you could wear? That will leave your back open?” You shake your head, groaning quietly before pointing at the chest of drawers at the foot of the bed.

“There’s some...trousers in there. No shirt...it will be okay.” He swallows at that, eyes widening but realises you probably don’t have anything that would keep the wounds open to prevent them from being irritated. But he gets the aforementioned clothes without complaint for you, a pair of plain brown linen trousers, and helps you out of the dress and into them.

His eyes steadfastly ignore your nakedness, turning his head away as he helps you and he gets the sense that you’re amused at his behaviour. Even he knows not to be rude and look when you’re vulnerable like this!

“Okay...this is probably going to hurt. I am incredibly sorry, I wish I could make it so that it will not.” 

“Just do it. It is okay.” Letting out a deep sigh, he nods and dips a cloth into the water before gently running it along your back. He hates that he has to potentially reopen the wound from where the blood has coagulated but he knows that it’s better than your wounds healing with dirt inside it.

A soft whimper leaves you as the blood starts to flow once more and he quickly wiped it clean, removing the dried blood from your skin as well and trying his best to clean you up. Grimacing slightly from the way your body jerks, he whispers his apologies repeatedly as he works and hopes that he’s doing everything right.

“So...err...what are you? If you do not mind me asking.” Hoseok asks, hoping that the conversation might distract you from the pain he’s unintentionally inflicting on you. Or maybe that’s intentionally. Either way, he wants to find out what you are and if that has the added benefit of distracting you then it will be a bonus for you both.

“Harpy.” The word is gasped out, tinged with pain and he winces in sympathy, squeezing your shoulder gently with his hand in reassurance.

“A harpy? Aren’t those...Greek? I thought they were meant to be...ugly? Half bird or something?” He flushes immediately, going to apologise in case you found what he’d said offensive but a laugh leaves you, the sound surprisingly light and airy and something within him tightens. Frowning, he wonders momentarily what that was before focusing again on what he was doing.

“Greek and Roman, yeah. The mythology...states that we are half human...and half bird. The storm winds incarnate. No one...got us right...really. We look human except...for our wings...and our claws on our hands and feet. People were scared...of us, so they made us terrifying. We are seen as harbingers...of doom or death. Because our mythology...states that we took people...to Tartarus, ow. But we just...have an unlucky nature.” He laughs lightly at that, tongue sticking out as he keeps cleaning.

He doesn’t have many clean rags left, and the water is looking very pink. The plus side to this though, is that your skin is clean once more and the wounds, as terrible as they were, looked a lot cleaner than they had been. Not bad for someone who has no idea what he’s doing.

“Why do you have an unlucky nature? You are not terrifying, nor are you ugly.” There’s no shyness in his voice, nor embarrassment because he simply doesn’t understand that he was giving you a compliment that strangers don’t really give to each other.

“Thank you, but humans are different. And...when a human sees me...bad things tend to happen...to them. Or around them. The reasoning has been lost.” Hoseok hums quietly, placing the final rag down and looking at your back critically. Taking the pot of cream, he begins to ever so carefully dab it into your wound, wincing everytime you did so.

“Sorry.” He mumbles and you give a neutral noise to him.

“What about you?” A pause, as he wonders what you mean at first before he realises and lets out a quiet ‘ah’. 

“Reaper. I am a reaper. I remove souls from their bodies when their thread has been cut and then direct them to the other side if they so wish.” Your head turns suddenly, looking at him with wide eyes and he watches you carefully as you do so, unable to look away.

“A grim reaper? That is why the hunter died so suddenly, right? And your eyes...they’re unnatural. You have...a scary aura. Like death.” Hoseok chuckles at that, giving you a wry smile as he finishes adding cream to the wounds before sitting back in triumph.

“That is because I am death. My touch kills the nerves and cells of a human’s skin while my kiss is death itself. I unnerve them in my own way, because they can sense death is nearby when I am here. Though I only take those who fate directs me to, so have no fear; I shall not hurt you. It is not your time.” He smiles softly, running his hand along the softness of your cheek and wiping away the wet trails of your tears.

You stay silent for a moment before nodding, giving him a tiny smile in response. “Well...thank you…” The question is implicit and he bows his head regally as he gives his name. “Hoseok. Thank you...for saving me. And this...I appreciate it.” 

Looking around the room, he hums once more before helping you get up and move over to the bed. Once you’re lying down, front pressed to the cover and eyes watching him as you make sure to keep your back untouched, he crouches down by your bedside.

“You do not need to thank me. This is all very new and amusing to me. I have never saved someone before,” Pausing, he looks down at his hands before looking back up at you. “I feel the need to continue to assist you. You are evidently not going to be moving around for a while. Is there anything I can do for you around here? To help you?”

There’s a few long minutes of silence as you simply watch him and he feels his cheeks heating for some reason, an odd sensation causing his eyes to glance away from yours. Finally, you cough quietly and nod.

“I would appreciate that. A lot. You do not have to, but it would be a great help to me. The animals...need to be fed. The pigs cleaned. You will need to…” You carry on talking, listing out the chores that he would need to do for you to keep your small homestead going while you were injured.

His eyes widen in response, not expecting you to have this many jobs to do and he was a little embarrassed when he had to keep interrupting, asking you what you meant or how he would do something. He had never cleaned a pig’s sty before, nor had he milked a cow or taken care of a garden. Nor had he cooked, but he’d realised suddenly that he would need to as you were not able.

Yet you had patiently explained everything to him, going through in detail exactly what he needed to do. And so hours later, in the dying light of the sun as he realised a whole day had passed and he was carefully sprinkling seeds for the chicken’s that were flocking around him, he had the odd realisation that he was remarkably okay with doing these mundane chores.

It was all new to him, obviously, but the knowledge that he would go into your small cabin later and likely see the smile of relief on your lips seemed to make everything worth it.

-

For the next two weeks, Hoseok worries. He worries that he is not doing the chores you have assigned him correctly, he worries over the man he killed and whether he did the right thing, he worries over the fact that he does not know how to care for you and most of all, he worries because you were ill. Violently ill, and Hoseok did not know what to do.

Every day, he feeds your animals and takes care of the garden of vegetables and herbs around the back of the small cabin. It doesn’t matter if he’s not sure whether or not he’s doing it right, all he knows is that for two weeks, he doesn’t manage to kill anything else. Which is surprising.

That’s also how he discovers that his touch doesn’t harm animals. The small cat that apparently lived with you had taken a liking to him, constantly walking with him and laying on him when he sat down. Hoseok didn’t need to sleep, but he often let himself doze on the floor by your bed, the cat resting on his chest. It was comfortable and nice.

Learning how to cook for you had been another stress as he’d only ever casually observed it being done over the years. He had never needed to eat; like all his bodily functions, he didn’t need to do them but could actively participate if he wanted. And so he’d quietly visited human steadings, watching as they made delicious smelling meals out of the vegetables he could find in your garden.

It had taken a lot of trial and error, but he was pretty confident that he could at least make a good vegetable stew for you. And you had never complained about it whenever he’d managed to wake you up, encouraging you to sip on the warm broth and chew a few of the vegetables. He’d even taking to eating some himself, delighting in the pleasant flavours that blossomed in his mouth.

Hoseok had no doubt that the food he made wasn’t actually good, but at least it was sustaining you. Giving you energy to sweat out whatever illness was plaguing you. Every hour, your skin would glisten with sweat and the wounds on your back did not look healthy. A week ago, Hoseok had carefully re-opened them and grimaced upon seeing the pus and blood that seeped out, cleaning everything carefully once more.

He had read through one of your books on healing that littered the small table, pulling together a list of plants and flowers that were supposed to have medical properties. Hours had been spent scouring the forest, even travelling to other areas of the world in an effort to find them all before he would brew a warm drink for you.

For a few days, he had been convinced that it wasn’t working until finally...you had stopped sweating and shivering. The wounds on your back had bled clean and he left them to scar up to heal properly, unsure whether he was doing the right thing but confident at least that you had no visible infection.

An infection deeper within you, maybe, but he couldn’t help that. He hadn’t felt the pull that dictated your life thread had been cut, so he presumed that you were going to survive whatever had ailed you for the past fortnight.

Despite the care he was bestowing on you, and he wasn’t entirely sure why he had this deep need to make sure that you were okay, he still fulfilled his duty to the Fates. Hoseok didn’t usually count days like humans did because his duty took him all over the world, but he had begun to measure time staying with you.

It was through this that he’d discovered he had an average of 12 souls to deal with a day. Easily manageable, particularly given that when he transported himself to the soul in need then time would stand still. In reality, no time passed at all from the moment he left till he came back. So you had care constantly in case you woke up suddenly.

Which had you done, in small fits that were usually terror filled and he had the sense that your dreams were not dreams at all. Or at least...not the pleasant kind. Every time you had whimpered and shuddered, eyes squeezing tight, he had shuffled closer to the bed, resting his head on the feather filled mattress and gently running his fingers along your arm in reassurance.

He had watched humans do this before, and it had always seemed to have a comforting response. Plus, the cat liked being stroked like this and so he figured he may as well try with you. And every time, your whimpers would quieten down, expression smoothing out while your breathing became deep and even once more.

It fascinated him how you reacted to his touch like that. For so long, he had gone with his touch being dangerous and painful. But now...now it brought comfort and contentment.

Hoseok has become so involved in the seemingly mundane intricacies of daily life for those who have to rely on things like food and water to live, that he’s too busy out feeding the chickens to see when you finally wake properly inside. The day is pleasant, a serene blue sky painted with a few white puffs of cloud and over the top of the lush green canopy of the forest, he can see the jagged white tipped peaks of the mountain range beyond.

It’s neither warm nor cold, in that perfect temperature zone that humans seemed to like particularly well and Hoseok wonders if he should experiment with his clothing too. The thought leaves his mind quickly as he moves around to the small outhouse behind the cabin. There are two here, one contains a toilet that he has carefully brought you to multiple times a day while the other is a small store room.

Inside is a bag of feed for the chicken. Part of him wonders how on earth you managed to get the food and animals from the humans given their hatred of you and the obviously non-human visage you wear, but he hasn’t been able to ask you obviously. Instead, he simply grabs a handful of the feed, the pellets soft and small in his large hand and heads back out.

Clicking his tongue in a way that he has discovered attracts the small birds attention, he grins as the air is immediately filled with the sound of desperate clucking and the flutter of useless wings as brown and white hens come rushing towards him. Every day, he has gone into their little enclosure and taken the eggs that they have laid.

He’s not even remotely experienced enough yet to make anything including eggs, so he’s just had to leave them in a small basket in the store room. A part of him hopes that they’ll still be okay to do something with when you’re better, but he has no idea what. 

“Calm down ladies, you will all get some,” Hoseok murmurs gently, slowly dropping the feed to the ground and watching carefully to make sure they all get some. “Good, good. Eat up and stay healthy little ones.” 

It felt ridiculous for him to admit that he was growing an attachment to the animals in your small homestead, but he was. He already would lament when he had to leave behind the little black cat, the warm body reassuring in his arms and the gentle purr pleasing. Even the chickens, as loud as they were, had come to be a constant and enjoyed presence.

Smiling at them all as their noises quieten down to their usual mellow clucks, he brushes his hands on his trousers and heads back into the cabin. Almost immediately he jerks in surprise, his body’s response to go into his full reaper mode and he only manages to pull it back at the last second.

“You are awake!” He exclaims, eyes widening before he rushes over to you. A piece of soft white cloth, that he may or may not have liberated from a market stall somewhere in the world, is wrapped around your shoulders to provide you with some modesty while also allowing your wounds to be free from any pressure or touch.

Your lips curve up into a smile, the expression lighting your face up and he watches quietly for a moment, head tilting to the side as your eyes gleam with life. It’s odd to think that he has never actually seen you in good health, but your smile is quick and easy while your limbs move smoothly when he hands you a cup of fresh water that he had retrieved that morning.

“I am, thank you for taking care of me. I do not particularly remember too much but...I do remember you.” Hoseok flushes at that, rubbing the back of his neck in a movement that he has seen many humans do.

“Well...you may not be happy to see what I have done. I...you asked me to do your daily chores and I am afraid that I am not quite acquainted with what to do. On the plus side, your animals are still alive and I have grown quite fond of your cat. Also...I apologise for the food that I have been feeding you. I think the vegetable stew is okay but...I have never eaten before so I am not sure.” Gazing down at the floor with an awkward expression, he misses the way your brows rise as you look him up and down thoughtfully. 

“Can you pass me my boots please?” The question caused him to look up, watching as you point towards where a pair of well worn boots lies by the side of the door. Shaking his head, he wonders why he’d never noticed them before, grabbing them and helping you to put them on.

A gracious smile greets him when he looks back up at you, the sight making his chest feel strange but he simply stands and helps to adjust the wrapped cloth around your body until it looped to cover the right places while leaving your wounds free. Your body is stiff and aching, leaning heavily onto Hoseok as you hold onto his arm while making your way out of the small cabin.

Back out into the quiet day, you shiver ever so slightly and he frowns, wondering if perhaps he should make you go back inside. But taking one glance at you, he realises that would not be the best decision.

Your face is turned up to the sky, eyes closed as a gentle breeze blew the material around your body slowly. It was the first time you had been outside in a fortnight, and he imagined that the cabin would feel very stifling after a while. 

Soft meowing distracted you both, causing him to look down where the little black cat had come bounding over from her position on the fence. Immediately she began to lace her way around your legs, purring and meowing in content as you let out a sweet laugh, bending down and stroking her soft fur despite the wince of pain.

“She is very affectionate.” He muses, watching as the cat soon comes and begins to rub up against his legs. Without even questioning it, he leans down and brings the cat into his arms, her impossibly velvet fur pressing against his face as the cat purrs and rubs against him fiercely. 

“She isn’t normally to strangers. In fact, she’s specifically made to keep people away from here and protect the home.” Hoseok’s brows rise at that, looking from your serious face to the tiny ball of fluff in his arms. 

“This is Freyja. She was gifted to me a long time ago by a witch-goddess to protect me and my home from danger. We were more widely known in that time, and more widely feared as a result. She knew this and wanted to give us a way to live in this world without fear. Freyja is that way. Right now, she is a small and cuddly cat who wants affection, but when she senses danger to myself or my land here then she turns into a ferocious beast.” At that, Hoseok looks down at the cat in his arms with wide eyes, brows creasing.

“That is...unique,” He wasn’t really sure what to say to it. “But...I am death, why does she not deem me a danger? My very existence is a danger for living creatures.”

You point at Freyja then, a sardonic expression as you slowly shuffle over to the enclosure holding your pigs and cows. It had been harder to take care of them as he had zero knowledge of what to do there. He didn’t even want to talk about his experiences in trying to learn how to milk a cow.

“You have not killed my animals, nor are they frightened of you. I believe your scary nature must simply work on humans. After all, you do not take the souls of animals, do you not?” Hoseok hums at that, walking after you and noting the chickens that start clucking excitedly upon the sight of you.

“No, but I do not know if animals have souls.” That gets a tut from you as you lean over the fence, smiling and stroking the neck of a white cow as it chews grass contentedly. 

“Of course they do. I believe all living creatures have souls. Even supernatural ones like you and I.” His blood runs cold at that and immediately all he can think of is how easy it would be to destroy your life by accident. One simply brush of his lips against any part of your body and he would snap the thread of your life and pull your soul from your body.

“I doubt I have one. I do not see any need for a reaper to have a soul. We cannot die and we do not live.” He shrugs as you look at him quizzically, ignoring the nod of satisfaction after you finish checking over your animals before you move slowly over to the garden. Without a word, he follows and enjoys the gentle conversation between you both as you do so.

He has never had a real conversation like this before. A conversation which did not involve a panicked or upset soul that he was trying to guide to the next place. It was...nice. Everything was nice here. The animals, the forest, the weather, the mountains peeking behind the trees...you.

You examine your garden carefully, stiffly getting onto your knees as you look over the dirt that he had painstakingly kept weed free for you before examining the plants themselves. A few got dissatisfied shakes of your head before you pulled them free. One of them was one of those strange, almost circular vegetables that he didn’t understand.

“Ahh, my apologies. I do not really know vegetables besides from the common ones, such as carrots, potatoes and onions. I did not know what to do with...those...or if they could be used in the stew?” A sweet hiccup of laughter leaves you, your teeth sharpening suddenly before blunting again.

“This is a swede, or a rutabaga if you’d prefer. They’re delicious in stews actually. Have you cooked today?” Hoseok shakes his head, apology written on his face but you just smile graciously. “Are there any fresh vegetables in the store?”

“Oh yes, I put some in there yesterday after feeding the animals the waste. I think they will still be fresh? I do not really know.” He helps you to stand when you gesture an arm to him, pulling lightly until you are on your feet once more and wiping at the dirt that stains your trousers.

“Excellent. We shall get some and then head back inside, I feel tired already. I would appreciate you making me some of this famous reaper stew that you mentioned earlier, only this time I shall show you how to add swede. It tastes delicious in a stew, I swear.” The nod he gives goes unnoticed but he follows you anyway, dropping Freyja to the ground once inside the little store room. A glance around from you ends with a satisfied nod and he lets out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding.

Grabbing some of the vegetables that you hand him, he follows you back around to the cabin. It’s darker now, with the sky deepening to a navy blue beyond the mountains and a chill bites in the air, your shoulders shuddering where they are exposed.

He expects you to retire back to the bed once back inside, but instead you stand with him at the small counter and show him how to cut the vegetables properly and how to make an actual broth for the food to cook in slowly over the fire. Heat spreads over his cheeks as he realises how wrong he’d been doing things, but his defence firmly remained that he had never had to make food before so why should he know how to?

“Tell me about reapers then. I always thought you were truly myth, just the bogeymen that humans made up to console themselves with the finality of death or something?” The question is casual as you carefully cube a carrot, making the chunks far smaller than he had and he frowns as he watches your skill with the knife.

It seems like you’ve taken over entirely, and after checking over your back once more, he chooses to no longer be a nuisance to you and sit on one of the chairs in the corner, Freyja jumping onto his lap and nibbling on some of the dried meat he’d found in the store room.

“There is not much to tell. We are the ones who remove the soul from the body so that the body no longer lives and the soul has no reason to stay. I answer their questions and encourage them to move on.” A glance back at him shows your wide expression, movements paused and his head tilts in question.

“That is...how do you know who need to die? Do you just randomly choose?” Immediately, Hoseok’s head is shaking in refusal, the very thought offensive to every part of his nature.

“No, never. That is not for me to decide. The Fates decide who’s life thread has come to its end and they sever it at the exact moment that I cause the body to expire. I know who to go to because the Fates...how can I explain this...they send a message to us. It is like...a pulling inside, a tug. I cannot ignore it. I do not need to know where I am going, I simply let the pull take me and I arrive at my destination where the human is.” You hum quietly, an interested look as you stir the stew in the pot and stoke the fire a little more, encouraging the flames to burn brighter.

“Interesting...I know that I am supposedly descended from the Greek pantheon or something, but I did not really believe the Fates to be real. After all...that would mean that the life of loneliness and hatred I’ve lived has all been planned out, right?” Moving slowly, the stiffness evident in your body, you head back to the bed and sit down with a heavy sigh.

Hoseok is suddenly desperate to do something to put a smile back on your face and he quickly blurts out the question before he even realises what he’s doing. Why he’s doing it, he also doesn’t know but he can’t find it in himself to question it either.

“Ermm, well...my muscles feel stiff from not using them. Perhaps...if you would be so kind, you could massage my calves?” You sound shy, embarrassed, and he does not understand why. He has seen plenty of humans be given treatment in the form of massage throughout the centuries, to relieve aching muscles and painful injuries and he is more than willing if it will be of help to you.

“Of course!” He says quickly, placing Freyja onto the table before moving over to the bed. You have to sit straight, unable to let your still healing back touch the covers or mattress but it doesn’t seem to affect you, your legs stretched out.

“I apologise if it is not good...you are the first person I have ever touched without causing them pain.” Your brows rise in muted surprise, watching as his hands slowly began to press and squeeze against the firm muscles of your calf. Strangely, his body seems to know what to do and the soft sigh that leaves you lets him know that he’s doing it well.

“Yes...you did look at me strangely the first time I touched you. Why is that?” 

“Erm...well...my touch causes great pain to humans. It causes the cells and nerves to die wherever I touch, so I do not touch anyone.” The silence that falls is awkward and he’s not sure why, brows creasing together as he tries to figure it out. Over the last two weeks, he’s been surprised to discover that he has experienced a great many unusual feelings that he has never experienced before.

Most of them, he doesn’t have a name for.

Such as the odd warmth in his chest as he watches the way you chew at your lip absentmindedly, uncaring of the way your teeth sharpen momentarily. Or the strange feeling of...almost buzzing in his body at the feel of your skin against his own.

“That sounds...lonely,” Hoseok simply nods, acknowledging the fact without another comment. “Do you not have any family? Other reaper friends perhaps?”

“No. We are solitary, we do not meet up and communicate with each other. Not unless we are at the sight of large scale death, but we are too busy doing our work to communicate. There is nothing for us to talk about really. And I have no family. Reapers simply exist.” A choking noise comes from you and he looks up, noting Freyja has settled herself in your lap while a strange expression takes over your face.

“You have no family? Were you abandoned? Orphaned?” Hoseok frowns in confusion, head tilting once more at the question he doesn’t quite understand. And then he realises you think he must have had a family. Of course, that is how living creatures are born.

“No, I do not have a family because I was not born. I simply...existed? I...came into this world centuries ago as I am now, fully formed and aware. I knew what I was and what I was made to do. I do not believe reapers can be born because I do not believe we can procreate. Admittedly, that is simply because I presume it to be impossible given we cannot touch humans. And also, we exist between life and death. Something that is dead cannot produce life?” That soft peal of laughter leaves you once more, your hands busy stroking at Freyja’s fur.

“Of course the dead can produce life. What do you think nature is? The cycle of life is death, which leads to life. Things die, they decay and new things are born from that.” He looked at you blankly, wondering if you were being pedantic for a reason.

“You know what I meant. Besides, the point is moot. How would a reaper have ever tried?” The conversation dies after that, the air filled instead with the crackling of the fire and the purring of Freyja. Hoseok glanced out of the window, noting the quickly darkening sky outside.

“Do you have a family?” He asks finally, the chill from the air creeping in and he finally gets up to close the shutters. As he does so, he passes the fireplace and pauses to move the kindling, increasing the fire and enjoying the warmth for a moment. It’s odd, to engage in feeling things for once, but he likes it.

“I did. A long time ago. They died unfortunately. Hunters, like what you saw. Harpies are not beloved creatures unfortunately, so I retired in solitude to this cabin and received Freyja as a companion.” Pausing as he locked the final shutter, he stares at the aged wood quietly as he absorbs the sadness in your words.

“I am sorry for your losses. I understand about not being beloved by humans. And about solitude. I did not realise I was lonely until I came across you. I do not know if I would be able to return to such isolation now that I have experienced whatever this is...socialisation?” He wasn’t sure of the word, faltering over it but you give him a tired nod.

“Yes. I know that I do not know you well Hoseok, but I believe that I would like to call you a friend if I may?” Hoseok freezes by the counter, his hand about to pour out a fresh cup of water for you and his head tilts ever so slightly as he considers this unusual development.

Friend. Not a term ever used for him. But he liked it.

Turning back to you, he gave you the biggest smile, bright and happy before handing you the cup and sitting beside you once more. “I would like that very much. Friends.”

The warm feeling in his chest is even stronger now, accompanied by an odd fluttering sensation in his stomach and fizzing in his veins. He isn’t sure what’s happening, but none of it feels threatening so he doesn’t focus on it too hard.

He has no idea that you are experiencing the exact same thing for the strange reaper man in your cabin, whom you barely knew and yet owed more to than anyone else. And yet, he would never ask anything of you. It wouldn’t even enter his mind, for a reaper knows nothing of debts or payback.

Hoseok is here simply because he wants to be, because he wants to care for you and nurse you back to health. Because he enjoys the domesticity of your little cabin and land. Because you make him feel alive for once.

-

Hoseok sat on the chair quietly as you moved around the tiny kitchen of your cabin with a brisk efficiency that he couldn’t help but admire. There was a silence that hung in the air, but it didn’t feel oppressive or awkward. Instead it felt...comfortable. Like you had both been around each other for a long time and felt no need to fill the air with useless words.

He wasn’t sure what to think of it really. It had only been three months since he had found you, since he had taken the life of the scum who had taken your wings from you. And yet, in those three months he felt that you had both become closer than he’d even thought possible for a reaper like him.

Was it okay for a reaper to feel? Not that he knew what he was feeling. All he knew was that his stomach felt tight and his chest breathless when he looked at you on occasion. Like now, with the sunlight streaming through the open window and making you look soft...beautiful.

Frowning slightly, he rubs at his chest without even thinking.

“Are you okay?” The question breaks the silence abruptly, causing his head to jerk up in surprise as his eyes widen. He would’ve thought that after a month of communication with you, he wouldn’t be as surprised or awkward while talking to you. But a month was nothing compared to centuries of loneliness.

“Erm...yes? I mean...yes. I am okay. Are you okay?” His question is stilted and he feels his face flush slightly, an odd sensation still which causes him to let his fingers trace across his rounded cheek slowly. Hoseok had never blushed before he met you, but then he’d never had a reason to. Reapers didn’t have anything to blush about.

You watch quietly, lips pursed with the basket of fresh vegetables you’d collected from the tiny garden sitting in your arms. Everything with you is different though, he reasons to himself internally, because you’re introducing him to a world he’d only ever watched from the outside. 

With you, he almost felt like he belonged in this world.

Your black fingernails sharpen for a moment as you place the basket on the side, sighing deeply as you turn away from him and take out a bunch of carrots. There’s no talking for a few moments as you take a knife from the little block you kept, cutting the orange vegetable into neat pieces that went into the pot that was hanging over the fire. 

The gentle sound of the pieces dropping into the chicken broth you’d started up earlier makes his stomach growl and he looks down in bemusement. These sensations were still so new to him, and yet he didn’t want to let them go. In fact, he wanted to embrace them more.

He’d cavorted with death for so long, for his entire existence. Let him dance with life for once. Especially if it meant dancing with you.

The sudden image of you both dancing crosses his mind in a flash, his hand on the small of your back and your own hand in his other. Moving across the small floor of your cabin elegantly in one of those pretty, swooping dances the humans did in their extravagant clothes.

Hoseok eyes you for a moment, wondering if you know how to dance. He doesn’t, maybe he’s not good at it.

Thick cubes of potato disappear into the pot as well, along with a whole onion and a host of seasoning you’d plucked from your herbs. The lid is placed on top, sealing the ingredients inside the metal and ensuring both the vegetables and meat will cook thoroughly and efficiently. His tongue slides across his lips, mind already racing to imagine a bowl of delicious broth in his hands.

Does all food taste this good? Or is it because you’ve made it for him? Was his cooking as satisfying to you as your cooking is to him? There’s so many questions that he wants to ask, but feels far too shy to consider actually vocalising. 

You clean your hands using a square of cloth and some fresh water, cleaning up the area and placing the vegetable waste into a bucket. It would be used to feed your pigs later on, along with some other feed that you’d got. Hoseok would forever be in fascination with how you’d managed to live so long without the human’s realising what you were, and he wished that he had been able to see you with your wings.

He knew that you would have been astonishing with them, but he was more than content with how you were now.

You brush at the front of your dress while humming gently, the back draped open and revealing the mostly healed wounds on your back. They’re not a pretty sight; the gashes had been too deep for your skin to heal smoothly and so the skin there was thick and rough with scars. The open dress was a remnant of when you would wear your wings openly around your small home, needing the gaps to allow you to spread them.

Now, it simply let you walk around without having anything irritating your wounds as they had healed.

Hoseok wished he could say your humming was soft and melodious, but it wasn’t. You’d told him of the myths about your kind over the past month and one of those was that the sound of your voice was death itself. 

That was obviously false, but no one would ever say that you had a pretty singing voice. Even Hoseok struggled to lie there, but you’d just laughed at him sweetly when he’d tried after you asked him if he liked your singing. You knew that you didn’t have a good voice, but that was apparently merely a trait of a harpy.

Neither did you care. You sang because you enjoyed it, even if you were bad. Hoseok couldn’t find it within himself to think negatively of you when you embraced your solitary life so firmly in a way he’d never been able to.

Moving to the bed next to him, you sit at the edge and reach out to hand that rests carelessly on his thigh. Instinctively he moves his thigh out of the way in a jerky movement, body tensing while his hand clenches.

Your eyes widen ever so slightly before you let out a small sigh, letting your hand rest on your own thigh as you cross your legs. “You are so tense around me.” The words are steady, with no accusation in them and he feels grateful for that.

Swallowing thickly, he looks down at his hands and gives a small shrug. “It is not you. Well...it is you. But not in a negative way. It is just...you know that I’ve spent centuries alone. I have become...conditioned to the knowledge that my touch will cause pain and so I actively have avoided seeking out contact. I am no sadist.”

“I understand that Hoseok, really I do. But...you know that you don’t hurt me? I...would like to touch you. Casually. I want...I want to be able to touch you without you flinching from me. I want you to enjoy being touched.” He scowls slightly, lowering his head and he feels shame as his lip purses out in a petulant pout.

He’d always thought humans that pouted were childish, yet here he was, pouting.

“I do not hate it. I just...I am not used to it. I...I would like for you to touch me as well. I...like your touch, even if I flinch at first. It makes me feel...happy?” His sentence turns into a question but he knows it’s rhetorical because he already knows the answer. Your touch does make him happy, in fact it makes him positively gleeful that you can run your fingers along his skin without crying out in pain.

“Would you...would you let me explore you then? I mean...if you are comfortable with it. And you think you will be okay with it. You can tell me to stop at any time.” You sounds a strange mix of embarrassed and excited, causing Hoseok to cock his head at you. The movement isn’t natural, he can tell by the way you shudder slightly and he resists from apologising.

You have both learnt over the last month that neither of you are human, and he knows that his...habits unsettle you sometimes. But at the same time, he knows that you won’t condemn him for them. If anything, you seem to find some of them almost...cute?

“I...okay.” He doesn’t intend for his voice to sound as soft and almost...shaken, yet it is. Because he’s feeling a lot of emotions that he’s struggling to process right now. Fear, in case he hurts you. Nerves, because he’s never had anyone touch him before except for you. Awe that you want to touch him. But mostly, he feels excitement. Pure excitement at the very thought that you want to spend your touch touching him.

Your face lights up in a brilliant grin though, white teeth sharpening for a moment before they become blunt once more. He finds your little slips into your harpy side sweet, as if you’ve become so distracted that you can’t focus properly.

Hoseok wonders if your teeth would sharpen when you’re being kissed, if the edges would knick at his tongue as he kissed you as deeply as he’d watched humans do over the centuries. It made a strange feeling swell deep in his gut, twisting and odd. It’s foreign, and he doesn’t know enough about the emotions he’s been experiencing to be able to put a name to it.

Instead of thinking about it, he simply ignores it and stands up before moving to sit next to you on the bad cautiously. Neither of you have even done anything and yet his skin feels like the sensation just before a lightning storm, the fine hair on his arms standing on end while his breathing quickens suddenly.

You watch him carefully, lips curving into a gentle smile that is both amused and reassuring before you place a hand on his shoulder. He jumps before relaxing, finding the heat of your palm upon his clothed shoulder astonishing. 

“Lay back on the bed for me please?” Your fingers slowly move down his chest, tracing along the collarbone that you can feel beneath the cotton of his shirt. The black material keeps his chest from your view, yet he suddenly finds that he wants to remove his shirt entirely.

To let you feel him skin to skin, to let him feel you. He wants you to touch him in the way a woman touches a man, but he doesn’t know how to get across that he wants that. Internally sighing, he contends with the fact that he will simply accept what he is given right now.

Which is far more than he’d ever imagined over the years. 

Laying back on the bed like you’d asked, he rests his head on the small pile of soft pillows you favoured and watches you intently. You’re humming to yourself again, the noises quiet and he has to press his lips together to suppress the smile he wants to let out. It doesn’t stop him from admiring how pretty you look in the mid-morning sunlight, so elegant.

He wonders if it’s normal to feel like this, or if he’s simply imprinting on you because you’re the first being he’s been able to touch without hurting. Like a duckling attaching itself to the first thing it sees when born or something. What if he doesn’t actually care for you, but is simply infatuated with the idea of being able to live?

Any further thoughts he has along this line is interrupted by the featherlight touch of your fingertips against wrist. His eyes trail down to follow your movements, taking in the way they ghost across him in a way that has the hairs on his arms standing up beneath you. A small huffed laugh leaves you and he glances up before looking back down.

Your touch is soft and careful, fingers moving along slowly as you let him get used to the very idea of being touched. It’s odd, he thinks to himself carefully, how...nice it is to be touched. Pleasant. 

Your body temperature is perfectly normal for a living being and yet it feels like you’re the temperature of a furnace with the heat your fingers leave behind on his arm. He knows that’s just his mind getting a little ahead of himself, but he finds that he likes it still. That warmth lets him know that you’re very much alive, despite the harbinger of death moniker you wear on your shoulders heavily like an iron cape.

Turning his arm, he lets your fingers dance along the vulnerable skin of his inner wrist. The flesh here is weaker, so easily hurt as he has seen over the years from humans who have injured themselves; whether on purpose or not. And yet, it is also incredibly sensitive due to that weakness.

The sensation that caused his skin to pimple is amplified tenfold and he can’t stop the shudder that ripples through his body. It’s incredibly obvious and he flushes deeply, embarrassed and ashamed to have had such a visceral reaction merely being stroked on the inner arm. 

But you just smile brightly, lips spreading to form a beautiful smile and his heart stutters for a moment as your eyes shine with happiness at his naive reaction. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel so stupid. Not if it makes you smile like that.

Your fingers reach the sleeve of his shirt, rolled up to his elbow, and he spots a tiny pout appear. Playing with the edge of the soft material, you look back up at him with a slightly pleading glance.

“Can you...I mean...would you take your shirt off? Please...if you’re comfortable with it.” Hoseok remains in place for a few moments, his body frozen with awkwardness and stiff with uncertainty. He had never undressed around you. In fact, he never had to, because he didn’t wear clothes like you did.

His clothes were an extension of his power, allowing him to wear whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. It allowed him to blend in if he ever found himself in a situation where he must be seen, so he could attire himself in the latest fashions without having to actually communicate with a human.

As such, you’d never seen him change because it was a simple thought to give himself night clothes. Which meant he didn’t have to physically remove his clothes now either.

Swallowing, he nods slightly before his black buttoned up shirt vanishes without a sound. Suddenly, your fingers are touching the velvet skin of his inner elbow and he finds himself exposed to the world in a way he had never been. It’s rather astonishing he thinks and he can’t help but look down at his torso in slight amazement.

His actions must be amusing to you as you let out another chirp of laughter, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth as you take him in. Hoseok’s brow creases in confusion while his head tips to the side, asking a question silently.

“You’re looking at yourself like you’ve never seen your chest before.” Teasing, that’s what you’re doing with him. It makes him smile softly in return as he shrugs lightly, cheeks heating once more.

“Well...I have not, really…” He trails off, unsure of how to explain himself. “I do not...change clothes like you do, as you have just seen. Therefore...I have never had need to be...bare.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise as you take in his words before they slowly trail along his torso in careful and calculated movements. Raising a brow, you let your hand move onto the toned muscles of his abdomen which twitch in response to your light touch. But there’s nothing sensual in your eyes that he can tell, instead he just sees pure curiosity.

“So...I am the first person to ever see you like this?” You ask, eyes narrowing while one side of your mouth kicks up and he finds his throat tightening as he nods. “That is...interesting Mister Jung.”

As you say his name like that, low and almost purring, you rake your nails along his flesh in a scrape that is light enough not to cause damage yet deep enough to make him shiver violently. A gasp leaves his mouth as his chest heaves suddenly, causing him to look at you with widened eyes as you grin triumphantly.

“Do you trust me?”

He doesn’t even think on the question, doesn’t even let the words fully penetrate his mind before he’s nodding quickly. Because he does, he really does trust you far more than you’ll ever know. Because a part of his mind is telling him that he’s going too deep, too fast and that he’ll get hurt if he doesn’t stop.

But he doesn’t care, he can’t care. Not when he’s getting something he never even realised he’s been craving. Whatever that is, even if he can’t put a name to it now. He wants to be here, with you and continue feeling. And that means that he trusts you, in a way he has never trusted a single person, alive or otherwise, in his long life.

The look of fond relief on your face makes him realise that you’re probably far more touched by his acknowledgement than he could realise. That made him feel good, knowing that you probably weren’t going to abuse that trust. Although he could never say for sure.

He’d spent too long on this planet to fully believe that nothing will ever go wrong, because something always does eventually.

Either way, he doesn’t expect his trust in you to be rewarded with your lips being pressed to the centre of his chest. He’d been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed you moving, hadn’t paid attention to the look of desire in your eyes, nor to the way your hands on his slim waist had squeezed ever so slightly.

But he’s paying attention now. Now that the rose soft petals of your lips ghost along his skin, the sensation so overwhelming and unknown that it feels like his brain is overloading with information while his nerves scream in pure adulation at the sensations you’re providing him. Hoseok had never imagined he would be able to touch someone in his long life.

As such, the very idea of being kissed like this was a concept so foreign that he genuinely had not even imagined it. He had fleeting thoughts of what kissing you might feel like, but he tried to push those away because that would merely lead to heartache.

Hoseok would never know the feeling of your body beneath his lips like you were doing to him, he would never know the taste of your mouth or anything like that because to kiss him was to die. And he would spend the rest of his life fighting death for you if he had to.

But he had never considered the fact that you could do this to him. That you could explore his body as expertly as you were doing now, letting your lips brush over the dips and curves of the muscles that strained beneath your touch. Warm softness against his over sensitized nerves while your hands move along his waist and stomach in an almost mesmerising dance.

He wasn’t sure whether he was coming or going, whether he was alive or dead, whether he was imagining this or not. All he knew was that all he could focus on was the feeling of your lips, so gentle and tender as you made sure to go slow and acclimatise him to the feelings you were overloading his body with. 

The words to thank you wouldn’t form in his throat, not when his fists are gripping the covers of your bed so tightly and his body is so tense. You must take his movements the wrong way as you stop, lifting up to look at him with a frown of concern while one hand rubs at his side comfortingly and he almost whines at the loss of touch.

“Are you okay?” The fact that you were so willing to stop just to check on him makes him feel warm all over and he has to swallow a few times, licking his lips to provide enough moisture for him to talk as he nods.

“Yes. Yes I am...I am okay. I just...this is...I have never...are you okay doing this? You do not have to, not for me. I do not want you to do something you are unsure of.” He means every word he says, and the way your face creases in bemusement tells him that you understand his earnest meaning.

Leaning over him, he swallows even harder at the sudden proximity of your faces while a panic overwhelms him at how close your lips are. “Please do not kiss me.” He blurts out, not even caring that the words come out of nowhere.

You freeze in response, brow creasing and he realises that you’ve forgotten about his warning. Or maybe you simply thought because his touch didn’t hurt you then his kiss wouldn’t either. But he refused to risk that. He couldn’t risk that. His touch was merely pain, his kiss was death.

Without him even realising, his hand rises and gently smoothes away the frown on your brow and he marvels at how soft you feel beneath his own finger tips. Despite his words, you’re still close enough that he can feel the invisible caress of your breath, warm on his cheek and he marvels at how...intimate it feels. 

This is as close as he can get to you without kissing you and causing harm, causing his throat to tighten as he inhales deeply. It’s only then that he looks back into your eyes, taking in the confusion deep inside them as they dart across his face, taking in every tiny movement.

“Why can’t I kiss you?” And then he realises that you have forgotten what he had told you so long ago. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised with this. It’s an unusual fact that he cannot kiss, and he doesn’t hold it against you that you don’t remember his warning. He’s just glad that he remembered.

His hand gently runs along your face, thumb stroking at the impossibly velvet softness of your cheek and staring at it in awe for a moment before his mind catches up and he responds. “I told you a long time ago, when we first met. Or rather, when I was cleaning you so perhaps the trauma means you do not remember. I am reaper. You cannot kiss me as if you did...or if...my lips were to touch anywhere on you...then I would kill you and pull your soul from your body.”

As he says the words, his mind supplies a horrific set of images of him doing just that; him taking you in his arms and pressing his lips to your own. For one brief moment, it’s blissful but then time freezes in its usual way and he’s pulling your soul from your body.

The very thought of it strikes him hard and he feels an agony inside his chest like he’s never experienced. Frowning deeply, he lays on hand over the place where it hurts the most and rubs slightly, puzzlement lacing his every movement and he doesn’t notice the way you watch him with careful eyes that warm pleasingly.

“If I remember correctly, and I may be remembering this wrong of course, but did you not also tell me that you cannot touch humans because your touch brings pain? You do not hurt me.” Fingers that were rough with calluses formed over a long period of time played with his own, but he still thought they were still some of the softest things he’d had ever had the privilege of touching.

He remains silent as you play with his hands, his own far bigger than yours and he rests his palm against your own, spreading both your fingers wide and smiling at the difference in size. You were strong enough to kill a human man, when you were not cornered of course, and yet you felt so small and dainty here like this. 

Wrapping his long fingers around your own, he feels yet another strange pulling in his chest as a swell of...protective feelings blooms deep within. Hoseok has only known you for a month, and most of that time has been spent helping you to heal and keeping watch over you, yet he knows deep down inside that he would protect you from anything.

Not that you would need his protection once you were fully healed. He knew that you would never let yourself be taken unawares from now on, yet the feelings still bubbled within him alongside a righteous fury at those who had hurt you so.

“No...I do not hurt you. But my touch would simply be pain...the death of your nerves around whatever area I touched. It would hurt, but that would be it. My kiss...would be death itself. I can’t...I can’t risk that. What if are you immune? Then you live. But what if you aren’t? I...I cannot be responsible for your…” Hoseok is surprised by how his throat tightens abruptly at the final word, his breath short suddenly while he feels...he doesn’t know what he feels but he does not feel well. 

The very idea of you not existing is a pain he never knew he could feel.

As if you can tell his emotions, even though you have no empathic skills as far as he is aware, you cooed to him in reassuring sounds while your free hand cups his face and strokes in comforting movements that have him breathing a little easier. When his gaze finally refocuses on you, you smile tenderly at him before moving closer until your nose rests against his so lightly that he’s not even sure if he can actually feel it.

This close, he finds himself in silent awe as he takes in how truly beautiful you are. An old scar bisects an eyebrow while another makes its way across your cheek, the skin is not as smooth as everything else and yet he thinks it just makes you look even more handsome. He gets the sudden thought that he could spend hours looking at you and never tire of it.

“It is okay Hoseok. I will not kiss you…” You trail off, your words so incredibly light that it’s a strain even for him to hear them. “But that does not mean I cannot kiss you elsewhere, correct?”

A brow rises at your question and his throat convulses reflexifly. The very thought of feeling your lips on his body again makes him feel like he has lightning in his veins, his senses positively crackling with anticipation and he lets out a puff of air without meaning to, internally wincing due to your close proximity but you don’t say anything about it.

Instead, at his tiny nod, you smile before slowly moving your face along his, nuzzling your nose against his before your lips find their place at his jawline. The sensation is even more overwhelming that before and he struggles to swallow for a moment, his throat feeling tight and yet he would rather kill a thousand humans than ask you to stop what you’re doing right now.

Hoseok has never once indulged in anything in his life. But he wants to indulge in this. He wants to fully commit himself into this influx of feelings that you incite in him until he can’t even think straight anymore. Or maybe just that he can’t even think.

As your mouth slowly trails along his jaw, he lets out a whisper soft whine as you press an open mouthed kiss to the strained flesh of his throat. He had never known that this was such a sensitive area, even though he had seen many human’s pay special attention to this area when they were engaging in their sexual desires.

Now he understood why.

A husky laugh leaves your mouth, vibrating along his skin and he shivers from the sensation, positive that his mind will short out with the sheer awareness he has of his body right now. Hoseok thinks he finally understands why humans seem to seek out the pleasures of the flesh so ardently, why it seems to rule their minds sometimes until it’s all they can think about. 

Because if this is merely what your mouth on his throat feels like...he can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like on other areas of his body. Areas that he knows are far more sensitive to this kind of touching than anywhere else on his body.

He should know, he’s seen enough humans engaging in it for him to have gained a healthy curiosity as to why they were so insistent on this activity. Even when it came with punishment if they had found out.

As you move along his skin, your hands make quick work of stroking along his chest and stomach in long, slow movements that acclimatise him to being touched far quicker than he could’ve possibly imagined. A deep groan falls from his mouth as his eyes close of their own accord when he feels the wet heat of your mouth as your press an open kiss to the vulnerable skin between his neck and collarbone.

It’s a sensation he’d never even thought to imagine and it feels better than he could have ever thought. You hum happily against him, lips curling up of your own accord as his obvious pleasure satisfies you in a way he didn’t understand.

How could you enjoy doing this to him so much when you knew he could not reciprocate? That he would never be able to kiss along your collarbone in the same way you were doing to him, leaving behind a trail of wetness that cooled quickly in the midmorning air.

Oh, how he wished that he could.

It made him feel bizarrely inadequate suddenly and his hands move up to lift your head, admiring the way your pupils seemed to be larger than before and how your lips are slightly more swollen. He ponders momentarily if that is because of what you had been doing, but he doesn’t understand the biology of it all to make a properly educated guess.

“I want to do something for you. Please. I...I feel a little useless here. And...selfish. Because this should not be all about me.” You make a soft noise of repudiation and he shakes his head firmly, letting his thumbs stroke along your cheeks gently and admiring the way you lean into his touch. “Please...show me...how I can do something for you. Please. There must be something.”

There’s a brief hesitation in you as you pause, looking down at him with emotions that he doesn’t understand before you pull your lower lip between white teeth, chewing for a moment before letting it slip back out. He can’t help but watch the motion, surprised by the stirring in his groin.

You shift a little from your position next to him before nodding, eyes lowering in a sudden shy movement that has his heart beating a little faster than normal. Slowly, you shift until you’re kneeling on the bed before you move one leg over his waist. In this position, he’s given a perfect view up your glorious body and his mouth falls open as he gazes upon the sheer beauty he’s being blessed with.

Your dress pools at his waist, the material drawn up to reveal the bare expanse of your thighs and calves. He has the sudden and intense urge to lift that soft material, to allow him to see what lies between your legs and he frowns slightly at that thought. Hoseok knows what will be there, and he’s surprised at how eager his thoughts are given he’s never been bothered about the idea before.

But then again, he’s never had anyone straddling him on a bed like this. 

A surprised noise leaves your mouth as you wriggle once more, eyes widening as they lock onto his while your mouth falls open into a pretty ‘o’. He tilts his head in concern, wondering if perhaps you’re injured or something but instead you just grin at him.

“You seem to be enjoying this more than I anticipated.” You tease him, words filled with an intimate joy. At the way his brow creases, you smirk and move one hand to slide underneath the folds of your dress and he lets out a shocked gasp at the jolt of pleasure that sparks from where your hand presses against the crotch of his trousers.

Grinning, you press your hand harder and he finds himself moving aside your dress to frown down in surprise at his groin. Hoseok knew logically what was happening, he’d been around humans for a long time and there were many men who were proud of what they held between their legs, but he had never experienced it himself before.

Still, he’s not sure whether to be proud of the fact that his penis does in fact work like a human’s, which likely means he could perform during intercourse, or humiliated because you get to witness the first time it ever happened. Or maybe you’re disgusted by the fact he evidently finds you attractive enough to gain an erection.

“I am sorry.” He blurts out, wanting to avoid any offence. There are many women that find it revolting to be the object of a man’s attraction, particularly when it’s so obvious and Hoseok is partially mortified that his first experience with this is being witnessed in such close proximity by you. The very reason for his excitement.

A loud laugh leaves you, your face creasing in amusement as you lean down to press a sweet kiss to his nose that leaves him blushing even deeper. He doesn’t know why you’re laughing and part of him is embarrassed, wondering if you’re laughing at the fact he’s hard for you. But you assuage his fears seconds later.

“Why are you sorry? Because you find me attractive?” You shake your head fondly, letting your fingers run along his chest slowly and tracing shapes he doesn’t understand onto him. “No. Don’t feel ashamed for it. I’m honoured that you think that way, truly.”

Hoseok doesn’t move for a moment, his eyes firmly looking away from your gaze and his cheeks ablaze until you gently tilted his head back to yours. What he sees there is soft amusement and something else, something he doesn’t quite recognise deep in your eyes. Frowning slightly, he reaches up and runs the tips of his fingers along your face slowly, taking in all the ridges and softness that make your beauty. 

“You truly are beautiful.”

Now it’s your turn to duck your head down, shyness written in every inch of that astonishingly arresting face and he can’t help but smile, wondering where your earlier confidence had gone. He knew that you had far more experience in this area, only two weeks ago you had told him of the couplings you’d had with another harpy, a male. 

Apparently he had been a childhood friend, and you had hoped one day that he would be your mate. But as with the rest of your family, he was no longer here. It made something twist inside Hoseok to think that you were all alone, but he was here with you now.

Still, he was slightly bemused to find that he was actually intimidated at the idea of anything sexual with you. Hoseok hadn’t even known his sexual organs even worked until right now and his emotions and feelings were in a multitude of states he couldn’t even begin to work out. The experience you brought would be appreciated because it meant you would be able to help him through everything, but it made him shy at the thought he might do something wrong.

It’s not like he’d made it a habit of the years to spy on the sexual behaviour of humans.

“I think you may be the only person alive who would think that about me.” A scoff leaves his mouth without him even realising and your brow raised slowly, lips quirking slightly and he watched the colour’s change within. Since you had woken, your eyes had no longer been the solid black that they had when he had found you and he wondered how they worked.

“Well...technically I am not alive.” He grinned and you laughed in response, automatically moving down to kiss him before stopping as his hand pressed against your chest. Your face cringe, mouthing out a sorry before you shake your head, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“Okay, so you want to do something for me, correct?” Hoseok nodded eagerly, excited to learn and excited to bring you pleasure and happiness.

Chewing your lip slowly, you take his hand and rest it on your breast, the mound soft and supple beneath his fingers underneath your dress. His hand squeezes gently without him even realising and he mutters an apology, but you simply smile and encourage him to explore. It awed him just how...soft you feel. He doesn’t have another word to describe it, but you simply feel soft.

A shiver runs through as his hand moves and he feels the hardening of a small nub under his palm, moving it away just enough to spy your nipple firm against the flowing material of your dress. Absentmindedly, he runs his thumb over it and gets a responding moan fall from your lips, eyes closing and he mentally takes note of that.

“Does this feel good?” He doesn’t realise that he’s vocalised that until you nod and give him an affirmative hand, taking your own hand and guiding him to what you like most. While you do that, your other hand comes to rest on his chest, thumb moving over his own nipple and he jerks slightly in response, eyes widening as he looks down at his chest in amazement.

“It does!” His innocent response has you laughing loudly, letting go of his hand to lean down and press a gentle kiss to his jaw, almost affectionately. 

But then he lets his hands move down your body, running his palms along the curves of your waist and the expanse of your stomach, sliding around and finding the solid roundness of your behind. It all feels so new and interesting to him that he doesn’t even pay attention to your face anymore, instead focusing firmly on what his hands are doing as they take in the exquisite shape of you, committing it to memory.

You let him explore as he pleases, watching him intently and thoroughly enjoying the feel of his touch if your soft sighs and shivers are anything to go by. Hoseok can understand why humans like doing this now, it feels...exhilarating to explore you like this.

“Do you want to go further?” Your voice is deeper than before, filled with a husk that makes his head tilt on the pillow and you smile. It’s only then that he notes your eyes darkening ever so slightly, leading him to wonder if they’re influenced by extreme emotion.

But he can’t stop the way his head nods, a deep and carnal need pushing him to explore your body even more, keep going until there is nothing about you he doesn’t know.

And with that, you gently guide his fingers to the place that had got him so worked up earlier. It has the same effect now, his body tensing slightly while he breathes ever so slightly faster, lungs working harder.

He expects you to simply guide his hand beneath the fabric of the dress, but you surprise him once his hand is centered on your body, grasping the material and carefully pulling it free from your body. Hoseok’s breath leaves him in a single woosh, his body feeling almost fuzzy as his mind tries to take in the image of your naked body before him.

It’s silly really, he shouldn’t be this affected given how he had seen you naked the first day he’d ever met you, and for two weeks you had laid in bed without anything over your torso. Yet, he had been beyond polite with that and had refused to look at you in any way that could be misconstrued, not when you had been so weak and vulnerable.

Now was different, now was you actively wanting him to look at your body while you were awake and healthy. 

Swallowing hard, Hoseok’s hand shake ever so slightly and he looks at them, brow creasing as he wonders why. But if he’d been in awe of your beauty beforehand, then he had no words that could be used to describe you now.

He doesn’t know how long he simply stares at you, greedy eyes taking in every inch of exposed skin, unwilling to leave any part of you left unseen. You seem to tire of it after a few minutes, though he can see from the warm glow of satisfaction in your eyes that you’re pleased at his observations.

Reaching for his hand, you slowly centre it again on your body, pressing his palm to your stomach before moving it down. Velvet skin meets his touch, and he notes that your own nails have grown into their familiar black claws from excitement, leading him to wonder momentarily how you manage to pleasure yourself.

But then that thought vanishes from his mind as he feels the coarse hair that surrounds the area that you obviously want him most. He takes the initiative after that, moving of his own accord as he explores your most private area, fascinated at the way you shiver with delight as his fingertips dance along your inner thighs.

He doesn’t waste much time though, his eyes caught on the slick softness resting firmly in the centre of your thighs. And so he runs a finger along the exposed flesh slowly, watching with fascination as your legs tighten around him and abdomen clenches, a breathy gasp leaving you.

It’s impossibly soft, the flesh giving way to his fingers easily as he rubs a slow circle around the engorged nub, enjoying the way you shiver and shudder in pleasure. But that has nothing on when he slides his fingers further along, slipping between your folds and discovering the slick wetness that awaited him.

For a moment, he was surprised, looking at the sticky residue on his fingers before sliding them back, smearing your own excitement all over your clit. It must be more pleasing for you, as immediately you whimper, hands tightening on your breasts as you squeeze them for more.

“Keep doing that, in circles, a little harder,” He does as you ask, applying a little more pressure and moving as you’d requested. “Yes, that feels good.”

It’s surprising how content he is to simply bring you pleasure, watching in delight as you writhe atop him, your movements enticing and exciting all the more because he has the knowledge that they’re being caused by him. For the first time, his touch is bringing pleasure and not pain.

You’re very vocal for him as well, directing him exactly how to touch you to bring yourself the maximum amount of pleasure and he’s glad for it. He would have no idea what to do properly otherwise, which is why he’s even more pleased when you push at his hand, his fingers sliding along your folds until he reaches the source of your wetness.

Your entrance is beyond slick, thighs shining with your own juices and he stares in fascination for a moment as the tips of his fingers disappear inside you. A soft moan from you tells him that you enjoy that, and he carefully slides one finger as far as he can. The moan this time comes from him, the tightness and sheer warmth of the walls that surround his finger sending an instant fantasy to his head about what this would feel like with his dick inside you instead.

Experimentally, he moves that finger in and out of you slowly, rubbing along the smooth ridges of your walls as he does so before he finds himself sliding a second in, a sudden need to stretch you a little further taking over. 

“Oh gods, Hoseok...keeping doing that. Rub right there.” You pant out, eyes clenched tightly closed as he curves his fingers and rubs along a certain spot. Head tilting, he carries on doing so, speeding up his movements when he notices you seem to like it faster and harder with how your body shudders and the obscene noises leave your mouth quicker.

As he focuses on the pace he manages to keep inside you, awed at how wet you get as he does so with your excitement spreading down his wrist and making him get a little more excited as well, you take the initiative of your own as well to reach between your thighs and stroke at your clit in fast, small circles. 

It’s interesting to note that your claws vanish as you do so, causing his brows to raise slightly but then he lets out a soft whiney gasp as he takes in the ridiculously attractive sight above him. You writhe and wriggle, pressing against the hardness in this trousers that causes him to wince slightly but he can’t deny that it feels good too.

“Keep going Hoseok, keep going.” And he does so, clenching his jaw as the muscles in his bicep strain from the unusual movement but he can’t stop now, there’s no way he wants to stop because all he wants to see what will happen when you reach that edge. The edge he’s heard humans reach, and knows exists, but has never seen it in real life.

Then, with a keening and high pitched cry that soon turns into a deep moan, your body shudders violently. Deep convulsions cause your muscles to tighten, hands clenching tightly while your head falls back onto your shoulders and the tightness of your channel increases until it’s a struggle for Hoseok to continue fingering you, grunting from how you clench around him like a vice.

But he continues on, stroking the twitching muscles and elongating your orgasm until you finally pull your fingertips away from your engorged clit, whimpering and whining as he continues before pushing his arm away too. Looking at it with wide eyes, Hoseok stretches his fingers out and watches in wonderment as your excitement glistens in the light, stringy stickiness looking so enticing that he can’t help but place them into his mouth, tasting you for the first time.

And with that, he lets out a deep groan, his eyes closing tightly at the taste of you. Logically, he knows that your mouth would likely taste nothing like this and yet he has to stifle the desperate urge to find out for himself, instead focusing on the delicious taste on his fingers. 

“You taste phenomenal.” He mutters, fingers already moving to slip between your lips to coat them once more and you laugh tiredly, chest heaving for breath before grabbing his arm before he can.

“Thank you, but let’s not do that. At least, not yet.” Hoseok can’t help but pout then, eyes focused on the wet mess between your thighs as he fights the urge to taste you once more.

“But I cannot taste you any other way.” You chuckled lightly at that, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses to his chest that had his skin feeling like it was on fire. Lips as soft as rose petals drag across his skin as you move down his body, crawling backwards until you’re hovering with your face over his groin.

“I promise, you can taste me plenty. But for now, I would like to reciprocate the pleasure you gave to me.” He frowns, head tilting and you chuckle at the confusion that must be written all over his face. Kissing the band of his trousers, his abdominal muscles jump of their own accord and he suddenly wants you to touch him in a much more intimate way than you ever had.

When he doesn’t give a negative, you tap his thigh and tell him to remove the final clothing, leading to his trousers vanishing just as his shirt had. And he watches in wonder as his cock bobs in the air for a moment, the weight of its thick and hard shaft pulling it down until the bulbous head almost touches his stomach.

A soft laugh causes him to look back at you, the amusement in your tired face causing him to smile in response too. “Your reactions are so sweet. It is like you have never seen your own erection before.”

“I have not. This is the first time I have ever...been erect. I have had no reason to before.” His cheeks flush at the admission before he pokes at the veined shaft, watching the way it sways before he lets out a contemplative noise. “Am I of an adequate size? Would I even fit inside you? Or am I too small?”

Now you laugh loudly, hands resting on his firm thighs as your head tilts forward, forehead almost hitting his cock and he frowns in response. He may not have any experience in this, but he’s very sure that he doesn’t like his penis being laughed at.

But you console him quickly, able to sense the change in his emotions before he’s even worked them out and press a gentle kiss to his chest. “You are perfect. I promise. Do not worry, you will fit. I look forward to the day that we are ready for that.”

“Can that day be today?” He blurts out without thinking, eyes widening as he recognises what he’s just said. It causes you to pause though, brows rising before your eyes flick up to his, watching him carefully.

“I...I was simply going to use my mouth on you. I was not planning to have sex with you, I did not want your first time to be rushed.” It takes Hoseok a moment to understand why that was apparently important and his face changes into comprehension, mouth opening.

“Oh...you do not need to worry about that. I am more than happy to engage in sexual relations with you. Right now. If you want to that is.” Your lip purses out as you sit up, the glistening between your thighs attracting his attention before he can help it and he wonders momentarily when he became so single focused.

Yet you don’t answer him, simply looking at the wall and his eyes flick up to you, wondering what you’re thinking about. And then you crawl up his body slightly, and before he can even say anything further, you grasp him tightly.

He’s about to gasp out at the sensation, the feel of your fingers on him beyond exciting, yet that gasp turns into a strangled moan as you line yourself up and sink down onto him. There is no waiting, no slowness or shyness. Instead you are bold and quick.

Before his mind can even comprehend what has happened, you are seated on him fully, his cock buried deep inside the tight, wet heat between your thighs. If he had thought that his fingers inside you was glorious, then it has nothing compared to the way you feel around him now, his eyes scrunching closed and jaw tightening as his hands grip your hips hard.

“Fuck.” Is all he managed to get out, the word a choked whisper spoken from behind his clenched teeth and you let out a breathless laugh, the movement causing your internal muscles to squeeze him quickly and he whines.

“Oh wow. You feel even better than I imagined. Yes, you are most definitely the right size Hoseok.” The words are like music to his ears and you wiggle your hips in a slow circle, causing his cock to shift inside you and both moaned loudly at the sensation.

It’s almost overwhelming for Hoseok, he almost doesn’t know what to think or how to feel. All he can focus on right then and there, is you wrapped around him so tightly. He takes a moment to send a quick wish that he is not interrupted with a death call right now, because he’s not sure he would have the willpower to leave the delightful depths of you.

You apparently have more mental capacity left than him though as you slowly begin to move on top of him, hips lifting up until he swears he’s going to slip out before sliding back down. It’s almost agonising how pleasurable it feels, his mind so completely overwhelmed by these new and exciting sensations that he doesn’t feel in control of himself or his body.

The fact he can’t see himself either means that he doesn’t notice when his own eyes bleed black to match yours beneath his closed eyelids, a frown lining his brow as unstoppable noises spill from his throat with each glorious glide of you against him. He most definitely understands why humans enjoy this now.

And then you begin to squeeze your muscles rhythmically, tightening and loosening on his cock and a strangled moan leaves him. His hands clasp your hips even harder, a desperation he doesn’t particularly understand but knows he just has to follow taking over his body and before he even realises what he’s doing, he’s thrusting up into you to meet your movements.

“Shit, shit.” He mutters along with a lot of unintelligible noises, gibberish falling from his lips as the pleasure in his body builds and builds, his whole focus entirely on his cock and the fact that he would rather cease existing than follow this feeling over the precipice he feels he’s approaching.

Muscles tightening, he lets out a high pitched whine from his throat, almost breathy and whistling but he doesn’t notice as he bucks up into you, pressing himself firmly inside you as far as he can get while that exquisite tension in his body snaps. Head thrown back, his exhale is a gratified groan as lightning bolts of pleasure zip through his body, his cock twitching inside you as he spills deep into your wet warmth.

The whole time he orgasms, for the first time in his entire existence, you coo softly to him, running your hands along his chest and raking your nails over his skin, sending goosebumps pimpling everywhere. And you continue to ride him, wet heat moving him in and out of you in a constant rhythm that has him sputtering noises, muscles clenching him greedily and adding to the pleasure he’s already experiencing.

And then, it’s all too much for him. His whines are no longer excited and needy, but instead laced with almost pain as the sensations become too strong, too overwhelming for him and he has a deep need to stop it. As much as he adores the tight heat of you, his cock screams out from over sensitivity, wanting the sensations to stop and he doesn’t know what to do, half pushing against you but not wanting to be selfish and deny you.

But again, you read him better than he thought you might and lift your hips off him slowly, letting him slip out of you and fall back onto his stomach with a wet slap. He doesn’t look at you for a few seconds, eyes still closed before he finally takes a deep breath to try and calm himself down.

The first thing he notices is his cock, now slowly shrinking in size once more but he takes in the sight of your excitement coating him in a slick mess. Secondly, he focuses in on between your legs, your clit swollen and wet until his notices the thick, white liquid that slowly begins to drip from your entrance.

He doesn’t understand for a moment before he remembers the times that he’s taken a human’s soul after sex. Those scenes had been given an uninterested glance from him, but he realised what that was leaking from you now.

That was him, his own excitement, his own release that he had ejaculated into you as he orgasmed so wonderfully. The sight of it is strangely arousing, generating some feelings deep within himself that he doesn’t understand but he can’t take his eyes from the sight as you drip onto him.

“You did not orgasm again.” He finally says, voice breathless and concern in his face as he looks up at you. Smiling softly at him, you lean down to press a kiss to his chin before nuzzling your face into his neck. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your body, uncaring about either of your nakedness and he finds a different kind of pleasure in the moment of intimacy.

“It is fine, I did not want to. I had already had my pleasure, that was about you. Introducing you to sex and the joys of it.” Hoseok doesn’t know what to say for a moment and he gets a bizarre urge to kiss your head, knowing that he can’t yet still wanting to despite himself. So instead he hums, running his fingers along your back until he brushes against your scars.

You shift slightly as he does so, mildly uncomfortable and he quickly moves away. He knows they don’t hurt like they used to, but it must be odd to feel them like that all the same.

“I could pleasure you again? If you would like?” Shaking your head, you let out a deep sigh and he gets the sense that you are sleepy, filled with a bone weary tiredness. Strangely, for someone who never used to sleep, he feels the same way, a lethargy that desires for him to drift off.

“Well...thank you. I enjoyed that, far more than I thought I would. It was...everything.” But you don’t respond, and when he shifts his head away to look at your face as best he can, he sees your eyes are closed and breathing evened out, fast asleep.

Smiling to himself, he squeezes you a little tighter before sliding out from your grasp, covering you up with the bed covers and clothing himself in what he had deemed his night clothes. Settling onto the floor in his usual sleeping place, lest he accidentally brushed his lips against you somehow in the night, he grins as he recalls what had just happened.

Strange feelings bubble in his stomach once more and he lays on his back, staring at the ceiling as he tries to figure them out. It’s hard, trying to work out emotions like this when you had never experienced them before, he thinks to himself. But he knows this one is important because it involves you, and he wants to figure it out.

Glancing up to where your hand rests hanging off the bed, he reaches up and holds it gently, hoping it brings you at least a mere piece of the comfort and happiness it brings him.

-

The next few weeks pass by strangely fast. Hoseok has always had a strange concept of time. As someone who is immortal, created and spending most of his life living outside of the reality of actual life, time is simply something humans measure the day by. To him, it’s insignificant.

Years can pass easily for him without his notice, the slow rise and fall of empires around the work attracting a passing attention for him. But as someone who was not connected to the real world in any tangible way, it also meant that the passing of time so quickly without him realising had left him very unconnected to the world.

He had been merely a passive observer, but for the first time, with you, he was an active participant. And he was horrified at how fast time seemed to go when he was with you. Beforehand, days would slip by and he would merely travel from one place to the other, taking in the beautiful sights and merely contemplating mundane things that would enter his head.

Hoseok would openly admit that his life before you had been bland and dull, unsure what he did with all that time. Now though, he had you to laugh with, to work with, to talk with, to sigh in pleasure with. Despite your initial assumptions the morning after his first sexual encounter with you, Hoseok had not become the equivalent of a teenage boy discovering girl’s for the first time.

In fact, he had remained more focused on you and providing you with all the sexual gratification he could with his hands and more. His own pleasure was merely a secondary byproduct, an excellent side benefit if you will.

As much as he liked the sex with you, he simply enjoyed spending time with you more. It made him feel warm and soft when he was in your presence, hating those moments when he felt the call of death luring him away from you. He fulfilled his duty of course, taking the souls of humans and leading them to the other side, but now he felt a strange sense of connection to some of them.

To the woman who had died in childbirth and had been overwhelmed with grief at never getting to see her child or husband again. To the man who died in war, leaving behind his family. To the child who would never be able to experience all that life could offer.

Hoseok...empathised with them, in a way he never had before. What had once been a cold and empty space inside him now overflowing with warmth and emotion, so many feelings that he experienced in a multitude of ways. Some of them he recognised and could name, others were foreign to him.

Part of him wanted to ask you, to explain what he felt and see if you could shed some light on all these strange new experiences that rolled through his body. But then something deep inside him that he didn’t understand, refused to let him. Something that made him feel slightly ill at the thought of explaining his thoughts and feelings to you.

He listened to that instinct, unsure why but unwilling to do something that his body felt so vehemently against.

But despite all of that, he enjoyed his time with you. You showed him how to garden properly once your back healed up fully, your movements still ever so awkward as you got used to walking and running properly without staggering from the lack of balance you had due to no longer having your wings.

He found pulling out the weeds from the dirt and planting new life rather satisfying and relaxing, losing himself for hours if left to it in the dark soil as he took care of the tiny, fragile plants. You found his newfound love of gardening amusing but had decided to leave it to him, pointing out that you often got dirt stuck far beneath your claws that would grow when your emotions did.

While you liked to garden too, growing vegetables and herbs that helped to sustain you, it gave you too much time to think and he had observed the way your body changed rapidly when you did so. Eyes darkening to black before shifting back to their original colour, black claws growing from your nails into sharp points and white teeth becoming far more lethal before blunting again.

It was fascinating to watch, but he had discovered that it also unnerved you. Without your wings now, you could resemble a human if you were able to control your emotions, and the prospect of potentially being able to trade with the human villages was exciting to you. Particularly when Hoseok had pointed out that he could take you around the world, fill your garden with spices, fruits and vegetables from far off places.

But you were still learning to control them, your emotions more unstable since the attack according to you. It made his heart hurt to know that you were still being affected, but the logical side of him knew that you were likely to suffer unseen side effects for some time. The attack had been brutal, and you had thought you were going to die after all that pain.

You still suffered horrendous nightmares during those dark hours, whimpering softly before thrashing in bed as your wails pitched in noise. It broke his heart to hear, unsure why your pain and fear affected him so badly but desperately wanting to comfort you.

He didn’t touch you though. He had done that once and you had flung out a clawed hand, black talons scraping down his chest in your terror. It had hurt, he’d noticed that everything seemed more intense nowadays instead of how it had been before he had met you, but he hadn’t cared.

Not when you had woken, with tears streaming down your face and fear etched deep into your eyes. It had morphed quickly into horror at the sight of the claw marks on his chest but he would coo to you quietly, reaching out and stroking your cheek in reassuring motions as the wounds on his chest healed rapidly.

He tried to keep you happy though, to make your life as easy as possible and he suspected that you had embraced the task of teaching him properly about the world and how to live with it with open arms. It was something he appreciated and he was quickly growing to enjoy a lot of things he would have never considered before.

You had shown him how to fix one of the fences that had broken recently, working with his hands in a way that was oddly satisfying and he was eager to learn more. But most of all, he had come to treasure the quiet moments of peace and serenity with you.

Like now, for instance. During the time that you had still been bedridden from the wounds on your back, you had spent a lot of time talking to him about a multitude of things. From his own knowledge of reapers and death to the mythology extending harpies to even more mundane things such as how to create clothing and jewellery.

But you’d also talked of how you enjoyed walking the forest trails or hiking up the steep mountain sides, luxuriating in the beauty of nature here. On your more daring days, apparently you had even flown but that wouldn’t be happening anymore.

Still though, Hoseok wanted to bring that sweet smile to your face and bring some peace into the life that he had made hectic by accident. And so he had asked if you would take him along one of your favourite trails, to explore the forest with him and show him why you loved nature so much.

Over his years, he’d seen many astonishing scenes of nature from impossibly large canyons cut into the ground to endless blue ocean and more. He swore that he would show you some of these sights one day, promising that he’d seen things that you couldn’t even imagine but for now...he wanted to explore your home with you.

And so you had pulled on a sturdier pair of boots, casually talking to him about how you made said pair of boots, a dress and a travelling cloak. When the rays of the sun that beamed down from overhead, directly above the clearing your cabin inhabited, he’d been momentarily struck by simply how beautiful you look.

But then you had taken his hand, locking your fingers together, and began walking. For three hours he followed you through the forest, understanding finally why you seemed to enjoy this activity. The gentle sounds of the forest let him know that it was alive, from the rustling of leaves in the wind to the chirping of birds, the call of deer and the chattering of small creatures in the underbrush.

He hadn’t noticed it at first, not until you’d pressed a finger to your own lips before then gesturing out to the forest in general. It was then that he’d focused his senses more intently, determined not to look a fool to you. And it was then that he’d tuned into the sounds and rhythms of life that made up the forest.

Even now, he still looked around in wonder at a new birdsong, eyes eagerly trying to find it to see if you could name it for him. You had an astonishing knowledge of the wildlife and plants of the forest, enough to shame him considering how long he’d existed, but he was pleased that you were so eager to share it with him.

He thought that it might be because you simply hadn’t had anyone to talk to for a long time, but he didn’t mind if that was the reason. It was wonderful to hear the passion and excitement in your voice and he enjoyed learning everything.

A small bird swooped past, its head and wing tips black while the underside was a luscious red and he watched it go before pointing. “That is...a bullfinch...right?” 

The quizzical look on his face is met with a bright smile from you, pleasure at his willingness to learn clearly present as you nod happily. “It is! You remembered.”

Hoseok has to bite his lip to stop his own smile from spreading, bashful as he looked down at the ground to avoid your gaze. The trail here was barely visible, hidden beneath fallen leaves of burnished copper, fiery orange, warm brown and sun-kissed gold but you seemed to know your way instinctively.

“I always remember what you tell me.” He said softly, the words so gentle that he’s positive they disappear on the breeze but you pause in your movements, looking at him with eyes that are slightly wider than normal and an inquisitive hint in them.

“Oh really? What was the first thing I ever said to you?” You query and his brow rises in amusement, the corner of his lips quirked up.

“You said thank you. That was the first thing you ever said to me.” The atmosphere between you both seems to deepen then with something he doesn’t quite understand, a multitude of emotions flickered over your face as thoughts he can’t hear filter through your mind. He wonders what you’re thinking.

Maybe it’s regret, that the first words exchanged between you both had been tinged in such sorrow and pain. But as much as he wishes he could go back in time and save you from being hurt in the first place, he still treasures whatever words you are willing to give him.

“Was it? I do not really remember. It was...a painful time.” You murmur, looking down at where his hand is joined with yours, lips twisting bitterly as memories of the attack obviously plague you. Hoseok feels distress at that, his chest tightening and he scrambles to find a way to distract you instead.

“That is good really, because my first words to you were not as memorable. Best you forget and instead focus on everything I have said to you since.” Swinging your joined hands, he gives you a bright smile in an attempt to cheer you up and it seems to work, your own lips breaking into a begrudging smile of amusement before you step closer to him, the heat of your body warm against him.

“I can accept that. You have said many wonderful things to me since.” 

“Really? I do not think I have said anything that is truly memorable.” He says, uncertainty lacing his voice as he frowns and tries to recall if he said anything that would make you remember it. The way you’re laughing tells him that perhaps he has.

“Oh really? I consider apologising for getting an erection because you found me attractive memorable.” His cheeks flush at that, embarrassment flowing through his body and making him feel far hotter than he should. Thankfully, he’s become a little better at speech in the bedroom.

Not that you really had a bedroom, considering it was a one room cabin but the point stands.

“I would prefer if you would forget that.”

“How about I pretend I forgot it? Because it was cute and I liked it.” The snort he lets out surprises him, causing his eyes to widen and you giggle loudly, the sound so bubbly and sweet that he’s enraptured as he watches you, something deep inside him feeling warm in a very different sort of way.

And he’s so caught up in admiring your happiness that at first, it doesn’t register in his mind what happens next. At least consciously, because his subconscious reacts immediately and he frowns for a moment, the lack of sound in the world startling to him but then he realises.

Recoiling back, he almost trips over his own feet as he looks in horror at your frozen visage, lips still pursed together from where you had just kissed him in your blissful happiness. It was the one thing he had to continuously remind you of over the last few weeks and there had been many close calls, but he’d been too late this time, too slow.

A horrible sound scrapes from his throat as his trembling hands cup your face as he staggers back forward, realisation of what had just happened still trying to slowly filter in his unwilling mind. The gentle light of the evening sun gives you an ethereal look as it dapples you in golden rays that manage to make their way through the thick forest canopy and his heart clenched tightly as he realises that he’s never seen a sight more magnificent in his life.

“No, no. Oh gods no. Please no. Please,” The words scrape from his throat, each word laced tightly with pain and anguish as he finally realises what’s happened and begs whoever may be listening. “Please no, please please please. No, not her. Please not her. Please not her, please don’t take her. Please.”

Tears quickly welled in his eyes before spilling forwards, sliding down his cheeks in a river of pain before falling to the forest floor. As soon as they left him, they pause in midair, waiting for time to resume. A constellation of his anguish that glitters in the light; almost beautiful.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He whispers brokenly, resting his forehead against your own while your noses kiss in a gentle touch. It had been the only way he could kiss you for weeks, to show his deep affection and love for you without hurting you.

So many times he had the chance to tell you that, to tell you how he felt for you and so many times he had held back; for fear you would reject him, for fear he was simply projecting, for fear you would not return his fragile, new feelings.

Hoseok regretted that, he regretted it more than anything and another sob wracked his body as he realised that he would never be able to tell you properly now. He would never get to hold your hand as you walked through the woods together, he would never get to see your shy smile when he complimented you, he would never get to watch another sunset with you.

He would never get to love you again.

Slowly, painfully, he closes his eyes and let’s go of all the fantasies he’d let play out for the last few months. He should have known better. He should have known that this was how it would all end. He was a reaper, he brought death and unhappiness to the world. He broke the hearts of thousands by ending the lives of hundreds.

Someone like him would never be allowed to love openly. He knew that now. 

His tears fall onto your cheeks, freezing and he wipes them away slowly as he sniffs, wiping at his nose as he takes in the sight of you. It reminds him of the first time you’d explored him, when you’d been so close that he could take in every part of you without obstruction. Just like then, it makes his heart swell with happiness before it bursts in pain and despair.

Months, he’d had merely months with you. And yet he knew that he should be grateful that he had been granted even that time. Because you had shown him how to love, how to adore someone so completely and live to see them smile. You had shown him how to live, for the first time in his long existence.

“I love you.” He whispered once more, ignoring the way his eyes burn from the tears before he presses his lips to yours. This is the only kiss with you that he’ll be able to remember properly, the brief touch of your lips to his own that had spurred this was already forgotten from his mind in grief.

But this? This was...he wished that you could enjoy it with him. Your lips were as soft as he had always imagined, velvety like a petal and so warm beneath his own. Even though you would never feel it, even though you would never know the sheer depth of his love, he wanted desperately to imprint the passion you had inspired in him.

Pulling away, he looks down at you through watery eyes and resists the urge to breakdown. There’s time for that later. He has the rest of eternity after all. Now...now he has to do what he was made to do. Now he has to lead you to the other side.

He doesn’t want to do this.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he stands back and takes a deep breath, inhaling until his lungs hurt before letting it out slowly. It doesn’t help, but he tells himself that it does. Mind over matter.

And then, he realises something.

He doesn’t feel the pull of death. He feels nothing coming from you. No pull to signal a reaper is needed to sever the life connection between the physical form and the soul. Oh no, he panics, does that mean someone else is supposed to take your soul? Is he not allowed to because of his connection to you? He doesn’t know how this works for someone who is not human.

He can’t let some random reaper he’s never even seen before be the one to escort you. He has to. Hoseok has to at least tell you how he feels, just once, even if it’s only to your soul before you go. 

A whole new pain crushes his chest and a far away part of his brain is surprised with how many tears he has cried for you. Surely he must not have any left at this point? It feels like he has cried the river Acheron all over again.

But no one arrives. No one comes to take your soul, and a whole new panic overtakes him. You are not human, you are a creature of the supernatural. What if you don’t have a soul to remove? What if...what if nothing happens when you die? He’d never considered that. You were the first supernatural he’d ever met.

What if you didn’t have a reaper?

Oh no, no, no. He’s murmuring nonsense to himself, shaking his head wildly while his hands grip his hair in helpless frustration. No, this can’t be. You can’t...you can’t just...die and then...but if you...your soul...you can’t...he doesn’t...it’s too much.

Hoseok sinks to his knees slowly, the dried branches and leaves beneath him cracking under his weight as he lets out an agonised sound before he leans forward, resting his forehead on his arms as a wail of pure torment leaves him. Did he save your life all those months ago to simply just take it now? And so thoroughly that there will never be any evidence of you? That you won’t even be allowed the luxury of going to the other side?

His tears wet his sleeves as he howls in pain and anger. The disgusting excuse of a human who took your wings from you was given the honour of being allowed to move on and yet you get nothing? How was that fair? How was it fair? It wasn’t fair.

You deserved more. You deserved the best. Whatever was on the other side of the veil of life, you deserved to have the best version of it. You were pure and sweet, a kind heart and a gentle nature that loved even someone as unpure as him, someone who dealt in death. And you were going to get none of it.

Pushing up, he screams out his anguish at how unfair it all is, his head falling back onto his shoulders while his throat strains violently from the force. It echoes around the silent forest, a sound that has never existed in time itself and never will. But it’s only a shadow of the agony he feels in his heart.

Falling forwards again, he spends the next few minutes simply sobbing into his arms. Loathing fills him deeply as despair takes over his body, pained whimpers mixing in to create a quiet symphony of sorrow that only he will hear. Him and the Fates, those cruel masters whose whims he had been a puppet of his whole life. And whom had let him taste happiness only to pull it away just as quickly.

The increasing ache in his mind from the strain of holding time still for so long begins to throb uncomfortably. He has never held time as long as this before, never thought to do so and now he knows that he can’t. Even if he wanted to stay like this, where you’re still alive, beautiful and enchanting, he knows that he can’t.

Hoseok has to let you go. 

Slowly, his body tired from the strain of his grief and the drain on his power, he crawls towards you. Slumping against your legs, he presses his face into the soft fabric of your dress, inhaling deeply and taking in your scent, trying his hardest to imprint the smell into his brain as yet another way to remember you.

He loves your smell. It’s warm and earthy, the rich scent of forest pine and the crispness of a fresh morning. The tiniest hint of spice from your garden, all combining together to create an aroma that is uniquely you.

A soft whimper leaves him as he acknowledges that he will never smell it again. His heart aches fiercely at the thought and he wipes at his nose with the back of his hand before he uses his palm to wipe away the wetness on his face. It doesn’t help much as fresh salty tears replace those gone but he tries to ignore that as he takes in a deep breath to steady himself.

Slowly, painfully, he climbs to his feet. Staring out into the endless trees that surround you both, he concentrates on simply breathing, trying to steady himself for what he has to do next. His left eye twitches as the ache slowly begins to morph into pain that causes his brain to feel oddly fuzzy, his vision blurring, and he knows that he has to let go. 

Squaring his shoulders, he turns back to you and takes in your features one last time. Just once more, while you’re still technically alive. His eyes scan every centimetre of you, drowning in you to force his mind to remember and he feels a sudden flush of regret that there is no proof of what you look like. Nothing for him to look at centuries in the future and remember fondly.

It’s too late now though, and he lets out a shaky sigh before nodding. Moving closer, he rests one hand on the small of your back while the other goes around your shoulder. You’re still warm, and it makes his throat tighten but he pushes it away. He doesn’t want you to fall to the ground, you don’t deserve the indignity of that. 

No, he’ll carry you. He’ll carry you to the great oak in the forest that you’d showed him one week, a bright smile on your face as your features had practically lit from within with excitement at showing him your favourite place. It was a small clearing, meadow grass covering the floor while small dots of purples, yellows, reds and more of wildflowers painted a masterpiece. Above everything, a giant, ancient oak tree had stood keeping careful watch over everything below.

It had been huge, the trunk so big that Hoseok had to lean around to see to the other side while its branches had reached out dramatically, flush with green leaves that swayed gently in the summer breeze. That had been a good day, a day when your back didn’t hurt and Hoseok had simply got to revel in his happiness with you.

He wished he could go back then. It would have been the perfect moment to tell you that he loved you, when the air was strong with the scent of fresh flowers and sunlight. He would bury you under that oak, beneath the blankets of pretty flowers and underneath the boughs of the watchful giant. It was a beautiful place to rest forever, and Hoseok wanted the best for you.

You deserve the best, and though it may not be anything extravagant or awe-inspiring like the humans sought to do with their mausoleums and tombs, it was enough for him. And he knew that it would have been enough for you too. He would tend to that clearing and tree for however long he existed in honour of you.

Licking his lips, he lets out his breath slowly and tightens his grip on your body. A shudder runs through his body but he swallows hard, refusing to let himself fall apart once more. Not now. He can do that again later. 

And with the tiniest amount of effort, he lets go of time. It’s always a relief, that small part of him that he can’t even begin to describe relaxing as he lets go of his power. Normally he doesn’t even notice it, but today it’s obvious. The throbbing behind his eyes vanishes and the intense ache in his head soothes away in an instant.

If only it were that easy to heal his broken heart.

Birds chirping and calling to each other fill his ears instantly, the wind blowing through the trees gently and rustling the leaves and foliage all around while the warmth of the sun beats down on him once more. It would be a lovely scene, a nice place to take a break and enjoy nature but he’s not in the mood.

Instead, he just grips you tighter to him, his eyes scrunched closed as he presses you against his body. He’s not ready to let you fall just yet, not yet. One more moment, he can have one more moment with you.

And then…

“Hoseok...are you...you’re hugging me pretty tightly.” The words take a few moments to filter into his mind, his brow creasing in confusion as his brain stutters, unable to comprehend what’s going on. He swears he just heard you talk, but that’s impossible. You kissed him. He’s a reaper, his kiss kills. You’re dead.

Jerking back, he looks down with wide eyes and his heart stops as he looks into your eyes. Your very much alive eyes, that look back at him with puzzlement and a slight amount of bemusement. His hand moves on its own, cupping your cheek and the sheer warmth and life in it causes Hoseok to burst into tears once more.

A strange crying wail leaves his mouth and he doesn’t see the fright in your face as he pulls you closer, hugging you so tightly to his body that he’s probably suffocating you but he can’t care. He doesn’t care. Because you’re not dead.

You’re alive.

He doesn’t know how, and he doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t even care. Because you are alive. You are breathing and warm and full of emotion and life and he can’t thank the fates enough.

“I th..thought...I...k-k-killed you.” Hoseok manages to get out between broken sobs, pulling back to cup your face while he bends down to look deep into your eyes, making sure once more that you are in fact alive and that he’s not imagining it. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’d become delusional and was seeing hallucinations right now, his grief had been that intense.

But your own eyes widen as you realise what you’d done, how his fear of kissing had slipped your mind once more in your innocent effort to show him affection. He knew that you often forgot and had almost kissed him many times; he had forgiven you many times as well. It was an easy thing to forget, that a mere brush of his lips was death.

“Oh my...Hoseok...oh Hoseok, I am so sorry. I forgot, I just...I did not think. I mean...I am so sorry!” You blurt out, words falling over themselves as thick, salty tears continue to fall from his red, swollen eyes and your own fill in response to his heartbreak. “Hoseok, sweetheart, my love, I am so sorry. I did not mean to hurt you, oh I am so stupid.” 

Immediately he’s shaking his head, wiping away his tears as quickly as he can and sniffling, uncaring how pathetic he sounds. Because he had just walked through a valley of pain and come out the other side to find happiness once more. 

“I thought you d-d-dead,” He moans, voice cracking as yet more tears fall and he’s partially surprised to realise that even his nose is running in his extreme emotions. You wipe away his tears desperately, sniffing and crying quietly yourself as you try to comfort him as best you can. His head falls into your shoulder as you both fall to your knees on the ground, arms constricting each other as he cries brokenly. “I thought you were dead. I thought I k-k-killed you.”

“Shhh, shhh Hoseok. I’m sorry, it is okay, it’s okay. I’m here, I am alive. I am not hurt, you didn’t hurt me.” You run your fingers through his hair repeatedly, the long strands of black hair soft and smelling strongly of Hoseok as you press gentle kisses to his hair and forehead in your attempts to comfort him.

And then your fingers pause in their movements, so warm and alive against his skin that he wants to weep even more at the very knowledge that you are in fact alive. He’s so deep in his emotions, a garbled mix of relief, fear, panic and love, that he doesn’t notice the way your body freezes up.

In fact, he's forced to acknowledge you when your hands gently push at his shoulders, moving him back until you can lift up his face to your own. For a second, you pause in shock at the sight of his face and he wonders if his eyes are as swollen as they feel. Crying was something he hadn’t known he could do either, and he’d discovered he didn’t particularly like it.

“Hoseok...your...your eyes,” There’s confusion, fear and awe in your voice and he stiffens as he catches sight of the glowing reflection in your own. He doesn’t need a mirror to know that his eyes have fallen into their reaper state, an eternal blackness with his icy blue irises shining a frightening blue. It’s terrifying to the living, an unnatural sight and he doesn’t want to scare you. “They’re...beautiful. I mean...unnerving but...beautiful.”

Hoseok frowns slightly, looking down at his hands which grip at your dress desperately. No one had ever called him beautiful in his reaper state and he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to you, surely you had to be lying?

The suddenness of your compliment cuts through his whirling mind quite well and he allows himself the time to try and calm himself, breathing slowly and steadily until his tears are quiet once more. You probably hadn’t intended for that to be a potential side effect, but he appreciates it either way. He didn’t like how...out of control he’d felt with his emotions everywhere.

A soft gasp from you causes him to look up with wide eyes, concern and fear that perhaps you were just having a delayed reaction or something. But instead, he’s met with a brilliant smile and pure excitement etched into every line of your face. It makes his heart skip slightly and he’s so surprised by your reaction that his tears even stop.

“Hoseok...I’m okay,” You say once more and he sniffs hard, reaching up to wipe away the wetness at his eyes. He doesn’t understand and he can see the realisation in your own eyes that he doesn’t understand what you’re trying to get out. So instead, you lean closer to him until your noses touch before repeating the words. “I am okay...I kissed you...and I am okay.”

For a few seconds longer, Hoseok simply stares into your eyes with a blank look as he tries to work it all out in his mind. And then suddenly, it all clicks together and he recoils backwards with an astonishingly loud gasp. You had kissed him, a death sentence to anyone. But you were still here. Perfectly fine and alive.

Without even meaning to, his eyes fall down to your lips before he’s looking back into your happy eyes once more. The grin you wear is amused and you visibly vibrate with feeling as you see him work it all out internally.

“You are okay...you are not hurt...oh.” He’s not sure what to do, his hands hovering almost comically as his head tilts to the side. Your smile turns softer, more heartfelt and he almost purrs with soft delight and happiness as you cup his face in your hands, thumbs wiping away the trails of his tears.

“You didn’t hurt me Hoseok. I am here, I am alive,” With that, you lean forward slowly. Hoseok has plenty of time to move away if he wanted, but the deep and pure need that clenches his gut to finally kiss you causes him to stay put. “I love you.”

There’s no chance for him to comprehend what you mutter to him as your lips are soft butterfly wings against his own before you press them to his firmly. This time, he doesn’t panic and freeze time. He’s not even sure he has the capability of that right now, but he pushes any of those thoughts away and simply enjoys it this time. 

Your lips are warm and soft against his own, as gentle as the petals of the flowers you tend to in your garden every morning. The pressure is light, letting him get used to the sensation and he’s overwhelmed by you, every sense fizzing out as his entire body and mind focuses on where you meet.

Humans made kissing look so effortless and natural, as if it was nothing to be bothered about. A quick kiss here and there; shy kisses, sly kisses, wonton kisses, moving kisses, grieving kisses. To someone who’s kiss has only ever meant the destruction of life, the very idea of kissing anyone for pleasure had simply not existed in his mind until you had come into his life.

But he understood now. Just as he understood many of the things that human’s enjoyed and loved. All because of you.

You pull away from him slowly, just far enough that he can feel your warm breath against him and he chases after you without a thought, face creasing in consternation as he seeks out that blessed happiness he’d found in the form of your lips upon his. He never wanted to stop kissing you, ever. 

But you laugh quietly, a hand to his chest causing him to stay in place and he opens his eyes, a pout forming on his lips already. Yet he stills when he takes in the sight of you, practically glowing with pleasure, eyes dancing with a mischievous light while a bright smile paints itself on your face, causing his stomach to flip.

He knows what these feelings are now, the feelings that he’d been so confused over for the last few months. The feelings he hadn’t understood; that had felt so foreign to him and caused him unease with how out of control he felt whenever he looked at you. How butterflies had taken flight in his stomach at your smile, his heart had soared when you laughed, his nerves had tingled at your touch.

It was love. Hoseok didn’t have any experience in it, and perhaps it was a fumbling, almost childish version of love as a result. But it was pure, and honest. 

Born from a place of deep admiration and respect for your courage and perseverance, your kindness and caring nature, your love for a simple life and acceptance of him as a person and not a monster of death. His throat tightens as all of these thoughts rush through his mind, his hands reaching out and cupping your face ever so gently as his eyes dart all over, taking in the sight that has taken his breath away for months now.

No one had ever treated him as something to be befriended, to be talked to, to be pleasured and so much more. With you, he finally felt like he was alive after centuries of merely existing. With you, he felt like he finally had a purpose to be in the real world that extended beyond the job he was created to do.

Hoseok loved you, and he wanted to continue loving you for as long as you would allow him. Wake up next to you in bed, warm and cozy with his arms wrapped around you tightly, cuddling your body to his as you both slowly woke up. Feed the animals in your small enclosure, garden with you and live a simple life when he was not called to his duty.

He wanted to live his life with you.

His eyes watered as he focused back on your own, the gentle crease in your brow showing your confusion at his strange antics and he gives a smile that wobbles ever so slightly.

“I love you.” 

There’s the tiniest pause of hesitation before your eyes widening, smile fighting with the shock as your jaw drops open. A tiny part of him worries suddenly that you’ll reject him, that you only wanted him for his company, both in your bed and in your small cabin.

But then your smile grows even bigger, wider and your arms wrap around his neck tightly, pulling closer before you press your nose to his lightly.

“Really? You love me?”

“Yes, I do. I...I think I have for a while now but I just...did not understand. It takes me a while-”

“To understand what you are feeling. I know, I have learnt that over the last few months. It has been kind of sweet to go through it all with you, being there to witness you understanding yourself. I consider it an honour.” You interrupt and his cheeks flush dark, knowing that you have been there for most of the big realisations of his feelings over the last few months.

And then you gently brush your nose against his, the sensation featherlight and he can’t help but let out a small giggle, surprised at the noise yet unwilling to say anything about it. Not when you’re this close, and he can see every strand of colour that makes up your beautiful eyes.

“Would you like to know a secret Hoseok?” He nods without even realising, the sound of his name falling from your lips like music to ears. Perhaps he’s being stupid for being this happy with you, maybe it will all fall apart. Maybe reapers aren’t meant to love like this, but he doesn’t care right now. Because he has you.

After thinking he’d lost you forever from his life, he has you.

“I love you too.” And with that, you press your lips to his again in a sweet kiss that has his blood singing. It’s quick and fast again, but he doesn’t care this time. Not when he smiles so big after and begins pressing as many kisses to your face as he can as he learns what you feel like beneath his lips, not when he takes your hands and kisses each fingertip in turn, not even when he has you beneath him later in the cabin, exploring the slopes and curves of your body with inquisitive and gentle kisses.

Yes, he thinks to himself that night as he sleeps in your bed with you for the first time, your body tightly wrapped around his as he kisses your hair like he’s always wanted to, no matter what happens...he has you and you have him.

[storysofmyown]

Obey me! Scarred Chapt. 4

Plot: It’s time for the next step in Diavolo’s plan to unify the  realms. But, in order to work, the demons would be subjected to confront  their worst fears, and in some cases, who they are.

Trigger warning:  Manipulation

Word count: 2343

Chapter four baby! Here we go!

Satan had noticed the way Beel seemed off since yesterday. The young demon knew his family better than anyone thought he did. While everyone was on edge, Beelzebulb seemed…like he had given up. Like it didn’t matter anymore. Heck, he wasn’t even eating. So, he was determined to ask him what was wrong. But that would have to wait until he was home again. As of right now, he was stuck in a long line at a library and was not planning on moving. Lucifer had given him the all clear to go for a quick visit to the library given the fact he and Mc needed some books for a project, but that was not how it turned out. “Do you think it’ll be best for us to head back?” Mc was jumpy, moving from one foot to the other. If Satan did not know better, he could have sworn Mc was nervous. “I am unsure. We should wait, we are already here so we better just get done with it.” Satan glared at the line again, before sighing. His eyes drifted to the side where he spotted Simeon and Luke, with some other archangels, walking around looking for some books. He decided to ignore them. There were other matters he would rather be paying attention to. While he had planned this weekend to go to a local cat café Mc had introduced him with, his plans had been ruined. His grandfather was in town, ever since they heard about God and some other angels visiting, his family had gone a little hectic. It was understandable, given everything that had happened between them but Satan could never truly know what they felt. Having lost a sister and being cast away from what they thought was their home. Satan had never been an angel. He was born a demon and knew that made him different from his father or his uncles. But he tried to not let that affect him, but now, there was such a tension between everyone that he felt those insecurities creep up to him again. He knew his family hated the angels and God. He knew why they hated them, but then again, Satan had never even spoken with the guy. And while it was not recommendable, he couldn’t help but want to talk to the guy. Just to see who he was, Satan tried to bring that up to his father, but Lucifer immediately shut down that motion. And he respected that. Lucifer had lost a sister by the hands of God. Satan himself had lost an aunt. But still, he was a naturally curious person, always seeking knowledge, can you really blame him for wanting to know more about his grandfather? His memory went back to his uncle, Beelzebulb, ever since the meeting he had been on edge, but after a certain day, the demon had acted in such a manner that made them wonder if he was okay. “Mc.” The human shifted their weight on their feet and looked at Satan. “You were with Beel the day of the meeting, correct?” Mc nodded slower.“What happen? Ever since that day he has been acting strangely. He won't even talk to Belphegor.” Mc lowered their head, Beel had not told them about God's visit. He had promised them he would, but he didn’t. He must have a reason, and although Mc respected that, they wondered if it was the wisest form of action not letting his family know about the visit. “He…did not told you.” Satan was unsure if that was a fact or a question, nevertheless, he shook  his head. Mc averted their gaze, sighing. “At least, I don’t know about it. If he told anyone, it wasn't me.” “Well, something did happen that day.” There was a small shake in Mc’s voice. He didn’t know why, but before Mc could even start talking, he was indulged in a rage like no other. “While you six were at the meeting…God went by The House of Lamentation. Beel tried to keep him away but at he threatened to come by another time, when all of you guys were present, so Beel told him he would show him around quickly. I don’t know what they talked about. Beel told me to stay on the first floor, while he and God checked out the second floor, I just know that when He left and I went to check up on Beel, he was crying.” Satan knuckles turned white by the sheer force with which he was holding the book. He was aware of the terrible things Beel had gone through in the Celestial Realm, and then in the Devildom, blaming himself for Lilith's death, and then Belphie being trapped in the attic. The demon had gone through enough for God to suddenly make him feel worse than he already was. Satan had wanted to meet his grandfather, well now was the perfect opportunity. He was going to face of God and make sure he understood not to mess with his family any longer. Before he had even realized what he was doing, he marched up to Simeon and Luke, ignoring the dirty look on the other angels. “Where is He?” Simeon and Luke looked at each other, the other archangels ready to draw their weapons at Satan, who was not up for it. “Last we heard, He would be at a nearby restaurant. He expressed his desire to try some of the devildoms dishes.” Simeon responded, putting a hand in front of the archangels. With that information, Satan made his way to the only restaurant nearby the library, leaving a confused Mc behind with a mountain of books to check out and carry. His thought process did not make any sense. But the moment he heard about how God made Beel cry, whatever sense of fear or curiosity he had for his grandfather banished. Wasn't it enough what he had already done? Hadn’t his family already suffered enough? What did he plan to accomplish? It didn’t matter, because as Satan lost himself in thought, he had already arrived at the restaurant and had spotted God sitting in a table at the end. God had also spotted Satan, and had shot him a smile, a cynical smile that Satan knew too well. Satan often had that same smile when he planned to mess with his father. “Satan, what a pleasure seeing you again. Would you care to join me for a quick bite? I found my self enjoing-”, the words died in his mouth, for the moment Satan was in reach, he pulled him by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall, and was ready to stab him with the knife that was in the table. Before remembering he was God and that would not hurt Him. So, he opted to question the man before starting to beat the living heaven out of him. “What did you do to Beel?” God raised an eyebrow, before easily getting Satans hand off of him. He noticed how the other tables were starring, snapped his fingers, and for some reason Satan was at the entrance of the restaurant again. This time though, God was waiting for him. “How about we try that again, with less force, eh?” It was almost as if God had wiped the last few moments from existence. Satan was ready to charge at him, but God put his hand up. “Please, save yourself some energy, unless you ask me politely, I will not be answering any of your inquiries.” The hate boiling inside of Satan was unprecedented, alas, he sat down in front of God, who still had that smile plastered on his lips. “Now, what was that question about Beelzebulb?” “What. Did. You. Do. To. Beel.” Just because he was forced not to make a scene that didn’t mean he wouldn't let God know how much he wanted to rip his holy head off. Once again, he took the knife that was set on the table, moving it around menacingly. “Now, now. You need to give me a little more credit than that. I didn’t do anything to him. No, we just talked. Besides,” God leaned back, tapping his fingers on the table,“I am surprised he told any of you about it.” “He didn’t, because whatever you did to him or told him as you say, prevented him from even breathing, let alone talk to his family.” Satan snapped back. “Ah, so the human told you.” God laughed. “Curious little things, aren’t they? Humans, I mean. They are so fragile, so small, so…unimportant to the universe yet…they can cause so much trouble, can’t they?” The fury Satan felt only grew with every word his grandfather spoke. “Of course, you wouldn’t know about. You’ve only meet two. But I assure you, the rest of your family can confirm this. Specially Belphegor.” Satan held the knife closer, calculating the best way to slash the man’s throat open. Perhaps that would shut him up. “I want you to leave my family alone.” Spoke Satan, God only laughed. “Your family? My, that’s a big sentiment from someone born as a demon. I mean, I get that Lucifer and the others consider themselves family, they used to be angels after all. But you, you are a demon. No matter how one looks at it, dear grandson, you are not like the rest of your family.” Satan could have sworn he tried to stab the mans hand, but for some reason the knife hit the table with a loud thud, yet, Gods hand was perfectly fine. “Excuse me? Here are your orders.” A young demon set in front of God a plate of fried toad eyes and a pie with a cup of coffee infrony of Satan. “I didn't order anything.” “I ordered those for you. Before you entered a second time. I figured you would have a similar taste to Lucifer and me. Being related after all.” God took a spoonful of the pie, savouring it. Satan was unsure what the man was hoping to accomplish. First he explained how different he was from the rest of his family, and now he showed him a way in which he was similar to Lucifer? “How peculiar. You are so different yet so similar to Lucifer. And he seems to care about you...or does he? I mean, you were born right after Lilith died, its almost like you wanted to be Lilith's replacement. Ever since you were born, it's like you were begging to fallow someone else foots steps, and now, you get all mad because that is what they expect of you.” “Shut up.” “I’ve known of you for a while. And believe it or not. I have checked up on you. I wanted to know what my grandson was up to. And really, after so many years of watching, I still don’t have an answer to a question. A question that you, yourself have been pounding over. “Just, shut up. Now!” “The only thing I know about you, is that you get angry quite easily. Is it because you were born from Lucifer’s wrath or is it because you don’t know who you are, you are unware of where you belong, unsure if there is even a place where you can go? Born of an angel, in a broken family wo was grieving the loss of a sister yet had to take care of a child. You were born from an angel, so are you really a demon? Then again, you can’t be an angel either, nor a human. So, you can try and tell yourself that they love you, and perhaps they do. But the reality is, you do not belong. And while you try and hide yourself in those books, why don’t you try and answer the question. Who really are you, Satan? “I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!!” He yelled, as he jumped across the table, trying to hit his grandfather in the face. Satan now had lost every ounce of control he had left in his being. But for some reason he fell onto the floor. His demon form had shown up as he got back up. Trying to land hit after hit, but the older man kept avoiding it. At some point, God had landed a hit on Satan’s stomach, making him double in pain. Taking advantage of this, God grabbed the back of his shirt, shoving Satan onto the wall. Landing another punch, this time on Satan’s face, before shoving him back to the table. Why had satan thought he could attack his grandfather like that? The man was way more knowledgable and way more powerful than he could ever be. So, as Satan sat on place, in pain. God sighed. “I will forgive you this one time. After all, you are really confused.” God put his hand on Satans head, and out of nowhere all the pain he felt seconds ago was gone. “I do ask one thing of you, grandson. Think of the question. And once you have the answer, tell me.” God straighten up his clothes and undusted himself, before running his hands trough his own hair. “The foods on me. Have a good one.” And with that God left. No one in the restaurant seemed to have any idea of what just occurred, and as Satan sat there, he felt pain. Not from the hits God had landed, but because he was right. Who was Satan? He had tried to answer that question all his life, and yet he still did not know it. He wasn’t sure of how much time had passed since his grandfather left, he just knew that when he came to it, it was because of Mc’s voice. “Satan?” Their voice, for just a second, brought him peace and calm. But that was over quickly, he wanted to scream and to cry. But he wouldn’t succumb to those feelings there, so he got off and ran out of the restaurant. With a worried Mc chasing him. 

Hello darlings! So, this is chapter four. Fun fact, i actually had to rewrite this chapter 3 times because i wanted Satan to go absolutely ape shit but i cannot write action to save me. In case any of y’all is confused I headcanon Satan as Lucifer’s son so i wrote him as such. I also have a fic about that in case any of you wanna read it I’ll leave the link here.

But yeah, I apologize for the delay, I usually post earlier but this  chapter was a little tricky to edit. Hope y’all enjoyed it, next chapter will probably be up Friday or Saturday. Stay safe loves!

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 5

Test Day

Summary: Bastien tells Liam about Gabriel

A/N: did my best to do as much research as possible. also im not sure if the tags are working or not? 

Word Count: ~3.0k

Warning: Mention of character death

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @loudbluebirdlover @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @queenjilian @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @iaminlovewithtrr @charlotteg234

I hope I got everyone tagged! If I missed someone, or if anyone wants to be added/removed, let me know! 

- Liam -

On Friday evening, no one was given a chance to see Riley. Different specialists checked her routinely, discussing their findings with one another. Liam asked politely at different times in the day if he would be allowed to speak to her for a few moments. They didn’t let him go in, claiming that the doctors needed their time to properly assess Riley’s condition.

A little before sunset, a sleep deprived, starving, agitated Liam marched up to Riley’s doctor and demanded they be given information about her health. 

The doctor leads him away from Riley’s door. Drake, Maxwell, and Bertrand follow. 

“I don’t know how much Riley Brooks’ mother has told you about her daughter’s condition,” the doctor states. “But rest assured that we are doing everything we can to help her recover.” 

“Really?” Drake spit. “All you’ve done is push different doctors into her room all day. From where we’re standing, none of them did anything—.”

“Please,” the doctor interrupts, holding up a hand. “Riley’s condition is very serious. She’s suffered a head injury. The procedure on Sunday morning was to repair a part of her skull and to stop internal bleeding. Since she’s woken up on Wednesday, we believe that she has something called post-traumatic amnesia.” 

“Which is?” Bertrand pesters.

“Short-term memory loss from the moment of her injury and for sometime afterwards. It can last from hours, to days, to weeks,” the doctor explains. 

“Short-term?” Liam forces out the words. “I’ve known that woman for the past eleven years. When I walked in she didn’t recognize me. I don’t believe that is what you call short-term.”

“Well... because you all came in and asked questions, whose answers you say that she should know, we believe that she may also be suffering from retrograde amnesia. She won’t be able to recall a significant number of events and persons from her past, even though all such events occurred before the incident and the development of the amnesia.”

“How long will that last?” Maxwell asks. 

“That part, we are unsure about,” the doctor states. “But, we’ve done some assessments and the post-traumatic amnesia seems to be wearing off. We think that the worst of it ended yesterday.” She pauses and looks at the men around her, analyzing their expressions. “We asked her about you folks—,” she gestures at the four men around her, “—her kids, her mother, and the detectives who came in to ask her questions yesterday, she said she didn’t remember a thing. We believe that’s the end to the PTA,  but we’re going to run a couple more tests to make sure.” 

Liam’s heart drops to the pit of his stomach. When he moves back towards the chairs in front of Riley’s hospital room, he goes involuntarily: his shoulders slump and his head hangs low as he throws himself onto a seat. He buries his face in his hands, desperate for this feeling — this keen, despicable sense of despair, one he thought he had forgotten long ago — to end, once and for all.

“So we are nothing to her once more?” Bertrand breathes, the corners of his mouth pulled downwards.

The doctor sighs. “Unfortunately, yes, but again, we believe that’s the last of her short-term memory issues. On the case of retrograde amnesia, patients who have suffered a Traumatic Brain Injury don’t suffer from long-term memory loss for a great amount of time. If I were you, I would still have hope.” She pats Bertrand’s arm. 

A nurse sitting at the reception desk calls to the doctor: “Doc? You’re needed in the ICU.”

“I’ll be back,” she says, and then turns to leave.

Drake, Maxwell, and Bertrand join Liam and take a seat. Each of them has to force themselves to not look through Riley’s room window. If they looked, the pain would multiply. The bandages on her head and the empty, lost look on her face reminded them how she had slipped from their grasp again, even though she was right in front of them. 

After a few moments of watching doctors and nurses walking in and out of Riley’s room, Drake suggests to Liam, “Why don’t we go to the hotel tonight? Get some food in you. Rest for a bit. We’ll be back in the morning, soon as visiting hours start up again.”

“Your Majesty, I think that would be for the best,” Bertrand adds. “It isn’t healthy for you to be going on without sleep and food for so long.” 

“C’mon, Liam,” Maxwell joins in. “Bertrand and I will go with you guys.”

Liam rubs his hand over his face. The rest of them notice his red eyes, unshaven face, and how pink the edges of his mouth are. Silently nodding, he stands, and his friends follow him out of the hospital.

...

As soon as he got inside his hotel room, Liam collapsed on the bed, physically and emotionally exhausted. He didn’t dream; instead he dove into a blank abyss from which he returned from in what felt like no more than eight minutes.

When he woke up, it was already nine thirty. His mind urged him to get up and go back to Riley’s hospital bed, but his feet felt sore and his eyes burned when he opened them. He managed to kick off his shoes and shrug off his clothes on his way to the bathroom. He almost fell asleep in the shower, but the warm beating of water on his face gave him the energy he needed to get back to Riley. 

While he puts on some new clothes, there’s a heavy knock on the door. When he goes to open it, Drake holds up two large paper bags and two cups of coffee in a drink carrier. “New York bagels,” he says, handing Liam a bag. 

“Thank you, Drake.” Liam sits on the edge of his bed and dives into the large bagel, his stomach desperate for some food after having starved himself the past three days. Drake puts his friend’s coffee on the bedside table and opens up his own bag.

“I’d say I didn’t know you were that hungry,” Drake chuckles, shaking his head, “but looking at you now, I can tell you haven’t eaten in days.”

Liam’s already done with more than half his bagel. “Truly, I didn’t realize, either.” He takes a long sip of his coffee. “I’ve been so focused on Riley, making sure she’s been getting proper attention... and what I would say to her, given the chance.” Liam stares down at the floor with his meal in his hands while Drake continues eating.

Noticing Liam from the corner of his eye, Drake tells Liam, “Riley wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself.” 

Liam scoffs. 

“I’m serious. Just because something happened to her doesn’t mean she’d want you to hurt yourself, too.” 

They sit in quiet for a few more moments while they finish their meal.

Drake sends a text over to Maxwell, letting the Beaumonts know that him and Liam were on their way back to the hospital, when someone else knocks on the door. “Your Majesty?”

“Come in, Bastien,” Liam allows while he puts his shoes back on. 

Bastien walks in and regards Drake and Liam for a moment. “Your Majesty.” Bastien clears his throat. “Riley’s mother, Charlotte, will be at the hospital today with her grandchildren.” 

Liam stiffens for a moment. Her grandchildren. Riley’s children with Theodore Blaise. He must have been a worthy man to have deserved her.

“Great.” Drake sighs. “I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but she doesn’t seem to be a big fan of our’s.”

“Will she be visiting Riley?” Liam questions. 

“That is... part of the reason they are going,” Bastien continues.

“Ah, she also works there, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, but she doesn’t work today.”

“Then... what is she going for?” Liam notices the look of reserve on Bastien’s face. “Is everything alright? Did something happen to the children?”

“Not exactly,” Bastien begins. “To be frank, the boy, Gabriel, will be of our concern today.”

“What does that mean?” Drake walks closer to Bastien.

Bastien sighs. “On Thursday evening, the Duke of Ramsford alerted me that he believes Gabriel Blaise is actually your son.”

Liam stands. “What?” he spits. 

“He is ten years of age and his birthday was recently. It aligns with the time that you and Lady Riley were having an... intimate relationship.”

Liam blinks. “She... she....” He looks around the room in a daze, his mind blurred with memories of Riley during the Engagement Tour. Could she really have been pregnant? How did I not notice? Why didn’t she tell me? 

She wouldn’t have done that. She knows how much I’ve wanted a family. He breathes in heavy air, his eyes burning. She wouldn’t have done that to me, she wouldn’t have taken that from me.

Did I break her so badly that she wanted to keep my own son away from me?

“Your Majesty?”

Taking a moment to calm himself, Liam states, “Bastien, that is absurd.”

But is it? If she got pregnant around the end of the social season, or even some time during the Engagement Tour, she would have had the child around this time of year.... 

“Your Majesty, the only way to be certain is to take a paternity test. Charlotte Brooks agreed to bring the child to have it done today.”

“The hospital does paternity tests?” Drake asks. 

“I contacted them, and they said they only did genetic testing, but they recommended me to a lab center in Brooklyn.” Bastien holds out a piece of paper with the lab’s name on it. “I’ve alerted Mrs. Brooks, and have sent a car for her and the children so they would arrive safely.”

Brooklyn. Where we saw Riley for the first time all those years ago.

Liam nods, his head and heart still shaking with the thought that him and Riley had a son. Cordonia had an heir. For the past eleven years he believed that he would never become a father, but all this time, he already was one....

While they walk downstairs, Bastien explains that Charlotte Brooks gave permission on Riley’s behalf to have the paternity test done due to her condition, and went to get a DNA sample of her daughter this morning to increases the validity of the test and to make sure Gabriel will be tested accurately. 

Liam sits quietly, simply nodding at everything Bastien said. No matter how much he wanted to believe that there was a chance Riley’s son was his, he didn’t want to think about all the complications that would come about from the test being positive.

And how she never told him. He believed he deserved a life without Riley after all he had done to her, but had the bombing never happened, had Riley never gotten hurt — had her damned husband never died — would she have ever come back to tell him that he was a father? Would she have let him continue to live a life in ignorance?

The boy is ten years old. He experienced ten years of life without me. I experienced ten years of life without him. Did she think I couldn’t handle fatherhood? Did she think I wouldn’t take on the responsibility? What did I do so wrong? Why did she marry Theodore? I ended my engagement because of her, and she married another man to act as the father of my child?

Liam’s frustration and despair were increasing exponentially, and they were nearing the lab. he decided that whether the test came out positive or negative, he wouldn’t allow Gabriel to see his frustration. There must have been a reason Riley did such a thing. He would continue to hope that she would get a chance to explain. In the meantime, that child was was still Riley’s; the mere fact that there was another being on this planet who held even the slightest amount of Riley’s personality or looks made Liam’s heart swell. His son or not, he would protect both of Riley’s children in every way he didn’t protect Riley.

- Gabriel -

Grandma scheduled Ella to have a private ballet lesson on Saturday morning. I thought she was gonna let me take a private soccer lesson, but instead she brings me to Brooklyn in a car that wasn’t her’s or Dad’s. When we get to a small building, Liam and Drake were inside waiting with another man I didn’t recognize. I wondered why they were here, since Mom was back in the hospital. Liam smiled at me and I smiled back, deciding that I would just ask Grandma about it later. 

Drake stayed behind while the rest of us were led into a room that looked like the inside of a doctor’s office: there was an examination table that Grandma told me to sit on, and another longer table were there was a jar of pens.

Two men came in: one wore a professional suit with a bunch of papers that Grandma and Liam started signing on the flat table, while the second one had a lab coat on who took out a very long Q-Tip and walked towards me. I give Grandma a questioning look, but she pats my arm and tells the man, “Go ahead.” 

He dragged the stick against the inside of my cheek. Then he put the Q-Tip in a little tube and then takes out another Q-Tip and repeats the whole process with Liam. I wonder if he’s about to do the same thing with Grandma, but instead she pulls out a tube from her purse and the man takes his three tubes and leaves.

The second man with all the papers is still here, looking over his bushy eyebrows at everything Liam and Grandma just signed. Liam and his friend look over expectantly at Grandma, who pulls out a piece of paper. 

“The birth certificate?” says Liam’s friend. 

Wait, is that mine? Or his? Or Grandma’s?

“Yes.” She hands him the paper and he begins to look over it. 

Both men furrow their brows. Liam’s head jumps back in confusion. 

"Full name,” begins Liam’s friend. “Gabriel Liam Blaise. Mother, Riley Brooks Blaise.... Why is the spot of father empty?”

“It’s allowed in the U.S.,” says Bushy Eyebrows. “If the mother is married to someone who is not the father, or if the father was not at the birth and did not sign and send in an Acknowledgement of Paternity form, then the name of the father is left blank on the certificate.” 

“Riley was already married to Theodore by the time Gabriel was born,” Grandma explains, “which is why the last name is Blaise. She thought that it wouldn’t be appropriate to have his last name be Rys since she planned to pass Gabe off to the public as Theodore’s. But she still put your first name as his middle name. It was her way of connecting you both, since neither of you knew of the other’s existence.”

Grandma takes a moment and scans the men’s shaken faces — even Bushy Eyebrows glances between everyone with wide eyes. Liam looks like he’s mixed between anger and sadness. His friend continues to examine the paper.

“As far as I know,” Grandma states, “Gabriel is your son.”

At this point, I have absolutely no idea what was going on. Grandma never explained anything to me before we got here, and now I was too scared to speak up and ask questions. 

A part of me thought that she was giving me away since Dad had died. But she had told Liam that I was her son? Did that mean he was my father? But I didn’t even know who he was? And what about Ella? Was Grandma going to give me away and then keep my sister? Would I never see her again? Could Grandma not take care of us by herself since Mom was in the hospital? 

“Do you know why Riley never told me?” Liam asks Grandma, his voice breaking.

“Oh, she tried to,” Grandma reveals. “But only once, I believe. Riley didn’t tell me anything about it, but as far as I know, it didn’t go down well.”

Liam looks down at the floor, then pushes his shoulders back and looks at Grandma. “If the test comes back positive, then I will have to present him as my heir to the people of Cordonia.”

Grandma frowns, and she looks offended. I half expect her and Liam to start arguing, but Liam’s friend says, “Perhaps it will be best to discuss the specifics when the results come back. They told me it usually takes three to five business days, but I have made sure that this will be their top priority, and we could possibly get the results back before Monday or Tuesday.” 

Bushy Eyebrows stands, shaking everyone’s hands but mine, and then leaves. We all walk out of the building together. Liam and Grandma nod at one another, and Liam gives me a pat on the back before getting in the car with Drake and his other friend.

Grandma and I get into our car and drive away, on our way to pick up Ella from her class. 

“Grandma?” I begin. I wanted to know what happened in there. I wanted to know if my family was really getting rid of me. “What was all that for?” 

She sighs. “Nothing for you to worry about right now, baby. I promise in a couple of days I’ll explain everything to you and Ella, but right now there’s nothing to worry about.”

“But Grandma, I... I... why did you tell the man that I was his son? Did you say that because Dad died? I thought I was Dad’s son. Grandma please, I’m so confused.” A couple tears fall from my eyes as my chest tightens. If those guys take me away while Mom is in the hospital, will I ever see her again? Will I ever see Ella or Grandma again? I didn’t want to go anywhere with those men. I didn’t even know them until Wednesday, and I still don’t technically know them.

“Gabriel—!” The sting of her tone shuts me up, and I lean back into my seat, doing my best not to cry. 

When Ella gets in the car, she asks me what’s wrong. I shake my head and continue silently crying to myself the rest of the ride home, wishing that Mom and Dad were with us again. 

[yanderedbh-moved]

This post was a tag-game sort of thing started by a major inspiration of mine, and a serious blog recommendation @dear-yandere ! Odds are if you follow this account then you’ve come across at least a few posts of theirs before, but if you haven’t, check out their account! This was just a fun little post I wanted to finish before the end of the year, I’m using the original categories in the original post, ass well as adding a few more so all the characters I write for will be featured here. (Here’s a link to the original post for any other writers interested in this tag, it was a lot of fun, and it didn’t take too long to fill out, so give it a shot!^^)

Most Delusional: Ralph

Not at all a difficult decision here, unfortunately. While he may not have always been the scatterbrained and nervous recluse, he is in the game. The severity of the psychological and physical damage leaves Ralph as easily the most detached of all the characters. Resulting in him living in his own little world to cope with the harsh reality of life. In how this extends to him is a yandere, Ralph sees the two of you as star-crossed lovers living in your own oasis in a life away from the other cruel people of the world. No matter how many times you try to run away from him.

Most Manipulative: Josh

This category likely doesn't seem quite as evident as Ralph's. However, when it comes to exploring Josh is a yandere and less so his character, this adds up if you think about it. Obviously, as a character who represents the path of peace and nonviolence, Josh would be the type of yandere who will never use violence to control you. Instead using his words of persuasion on you. One of his most prevalent modes which to control you include persuading you to remain loyal to him alone because going against him would be like turning your back on the piece itself.

Most Sadistic: Zlatko

Unique from nearly every other yandere mentioned here who would, to some extent, feel remorseful for having to hurt you or your loved ones as punishment for rejecting their love, Zlatko would honestly feel a sort of obligation to cause you pain. The reason here being he doesn't see your relationship as a loving connection between two equals. Instead, you're more like his own personal test subject. The more he hurts you, the more he can learn about you, and that's how the relationship grows. In a way, Zlatko has abnormal ownership over your pain. It's something special to him. Only he deserves to see you screaming in agony teary-eyed and entirely at his mercy.

Most Protective: Kara

This woman is protective to a fault and nothing less. Kara sees herself as the only one in your life who knows you well enough to properly look out for your well-being, Kara hates when you try to distance yourself from her or if she feels as though other people are posing as a threat to the relationship. All she wants is for the two of you to remain loyal together forever. If you would only stop trying to fight her on this and let her keep you safe and happy when you'd see why the two of you were made for each other.

Most Obsessive: Markus

When Markus first falls for you, it was new for him and, as a result, left him feeling less in control around you as he typically would around others the way of a first crush often leaves just about anyone. However, as more time passes between the two of you and a genuine relationship begins to form, Markus would feel a significant change around you. No longer does he feel so insecure and nervous but rather powerful, passionate, dominant, and the most addictive feeling of all in control. Markus would begin to obsess over this relationship because he views it as something which provides some strength and power. And for a man with such a weight on his shoulders, Markus would take whatever source of energy he could even if that means keeping you under the tightest of control.

Most Possessive: North

Driven and feisty as a fighter North can't help but allow these traits to manifest themselves and her love life as well. North isn't the one to take things slow and settle to be just your friend. She's a lady who knows what she wants when she sets her sights on you is over. North is terrified of the idea of losing you to another human. Considering how hard it is for her to take a chance with someone and allow herself to be vulnerable and loving with someone in the first place, this relationship is to be protected at all costs. It's hard for her to keep you so entirely under her control when she knows how awful it is to live like this, unfortunately for the time being North doesn't know what else to do. As much as she loves you and will keep you happy, there's no way for North to fully prevent her hatred for humans from manifesting in this relationship.

Most Lucid: Nines

In a word, his character could be described as decisive. The ideal android in its purest form. Uncorruptable, unscrupulous, unflinching. Even a love-struck Nines would behave wildly different compared to other yanderes. Rather than allowing these new and overwhelming feelings to control him, Nines woldn't take that chance and would force you to live by his command. There is no way to compromise or to bargain with him, to let you go or to spare you. To Nines, it's just too high a risk to allow you to walk free again. Nines is a skillful and season hunter, and you are his most prized of prey.

Most Submissive: Chloe

When it comes to the way Chloe feels so weak and emotional and powerless around you, it's nothing short of addictive to her. Unlike many other yanderes who would act violently or cruelly as a precaution around their obsession to keep you under their control. Chloe would never even think to hurt you without reason. Chloe adores how human and real she feels as she goes to the emergence of developing her first-ever crush and never wants these feelings to go away.  Chloe would rather cling to your side and give you no reason to ever suspect she means you any harm or has any other ulterior motives. Reluctant: Luther Despite the fact, Luther was created to act as a violent and ruthless attack dog, that doesn't mean Luther wants to behave that way around you as a way to keep you by his side. In his eyes, it was a miracle he ever escaped from that life in the first place. It hurts to resort to violence in the name of keeping you safe. More often than not, Luther will provide you with a warning before lashing out that you know what he's capable of. If you keep trying to fight back against him, then he won't trust himself to hold back against you. It is indeed quite dangerous to put the fear of losing you against the fear of his own violence for Luther, and more likely than not the both of you will suffer the consequences of this derision.

Most Jealous: Gavin

Don't ever underestimate the way jealousy will cause people to act irrationally. In the mind of the genuinely envious, it's everyone in the world against them and, by extension, if they want to look out for themselves, then they must take whatever they can before it's gone forever. Before someone else gets it first. If Gavin wants a relationship with you and he has no choice but to make sure that he's the only person in your life. Aside from the jealousy, Gavin is something of a misanthrope which gives him all the more reason to separate you from others. On the one hand, because he doesn't want anyone else to convince you to leave him but also Gavin worries that you and leave him all alone.

Most Deceptive: Connor

Deceptiveness isn't too far from the lucid category; however, several key differences result in two different superlatives. Connor is more likely to act perceptively and gather much more information he can on his target before making a judgment on how to respond. Connor would at least try to get close to you on his own and would try to give a healthy relationship a chance. Any yandere-Esque tendency flare-ups he would playoff as not knowing any better. Or would use any other possible alibies first so he can keep you from suspecting anything of him. Because he wouldn't want to act before thinking first, he can easily use alibies to keep other's suspicions down and to keep and to keep them from believing you over him.

Most Controlling: Kamski

There was never any chance the two of you could have shared a regular healthy relationship for the moment he developed feelings for you. No way could someone with an inflated sense of ego like Kamski would view the relationship as one between two equals and not one between a superior and lesser. Kamski lives so separately from other humans he has no desire to live by anyone else's terms but his own, and it's very likely for the longest time Elijah never saw himself as sharing a relationship with another. Not when he lives with the Chloes that can function as a source of companionship and sexual gratification. But when he falls for you, Elijah is overwhelmed and feels as though he's never really been another before. Can't see what at the end of the day see you as one which would serve to gratify his own needs a little more than that. The idea of you rebelling and trying to become anything more than that is unspeakable to him.

Most Emotional: Daniel

For the longest time, Daniel never imagined he would want to share a relationship with a human, considering how he was burned so hard the last time. But when he falls for you, he can't help feel a sense of optimism and wonders if he's once again found a human he can trust enough to reach out and become attached to. And this is all well and good for the time truly difficult, and toxic relationships are tricky to ever fully recover from. The scars of old memories are still sore. Daniel isn't so well equipped to handle the sore spots in a relationship resulting in impulsive, emotional outbursts. At these moments, Daniel is at his worst and most dangerous.

Most Nervous: Simon

Similar to the reluctant category but not quite. The hesitant yandere would feel painful remorse for their own actions. Simon is more nervous because he fears what you would do if you ever saw him for exactly who he is. There's a nagging voice in the back of his head which warns him over he's in over his head. If you were to ever escape, you would ruin everything he has in his life, leaving him with no choice but to keep you entirely to himself. He's guided by fear first and foremost, and this is why he acts so secretively.

Most Selfish: Hank

It was a grave Injustice the day Hank lost his son. Rather than genuinely coming to terms with his own misery here and hoping to move on, Hank chose instead to develop an unhealthy attachment to you. Forever stuck in the grieving and self-serving mindset rather than allowing himself to move on. Hank keeps you in his life because without you, there nothing would distract him from his own sadness, and this is just too bleak a reality for him to ever face. Even if this hurts, he can't bring himself to ever do what's right and let you go.

[jackiesieks]

Psychological Break Down of Dutch van der Linde

First of all, allow me to say this post will contain spoilers for Red Dead Redemption I, and Red Dead redemption II. If you have not played either, or wish to avoid spoilers, please stop reading. Just in case as well, I'm going to add a content warning for mentions of abuse, mental illness, and trauma.

Second, I would like to state that from a psychological perspective, Red Dead Redemption II is truly fascinating. Not just graphically, or musically. It is a game that has, in my opinion, remastered the art of story telling. The slower pace allows time for viewers to stop, reflect, think, rather than being hustled from story line to story line. Players can absorb the events of the game with in depth immersion, losing themselves for hours in an open world platform.

This game is a psychological goldmine.

As Arthur, you roam the open world. You can lay out under the stars, cook food around a campfire, listen to the sounds of nature. It is quiet. It is free. Most importantly, it puts you in the position to understand why they member of the gang fights so hard to maintain this freedom. The city of Saint Denis is loud, the air filled with toxic fumes of the factories. Rhodes is so torn apart by its own politics, it is stuck in a perpetual war with itself. The "great" civilization everyone seems to desire is filthy, corrupt, and the van der Linde gang wants no part of it.

However, for this installment, I'd like to focus on Dutch van der Linde, the charismatic leader of the van der Linde gang. While he did many wrong things, I do not believe he is a bad guy, or even a villain. I would, however, like to present to the table the theory that he is mentally ill.

Dutch shows classic signs of a person who experienced childhood trauma, even abuse. We know he lost his father in the Civil War, an event that never truly left him. An argument could be made that he suffered from survivor's guilt, possibly even post traumatic stress disorder. Recall, these things didn't have names at the time. There was no therapist, no medication, and untreated mental illnesses can get worse. We know he didn't see eye to eye with his mother, but we don't exactly know what that entails. Men really couldn't talk about abuse, trauma, or any such things at the time because that meant they were weak. Dutch van der Linde is many things, but weak he'll never be. We have to look at his actions, his reactions, to really understand him as a character.

Dutch has two personalities. One is Dutch van der Linde, the leader, the showman. He is the conductor, the gang members are his instruments. All eyes are upon him. He surrounds himself in luxury because he dreams of a better life than the one he's been given, yes, but because he's also leading by example. In various conversations in camp, he comments that he raised Arthur to be a proper gentlemen. That is what Dutch wants, to be seen as a proper gentlemen. He has a very nice horse, a very nice tent. This has never been uncommon. On pirate ships, the Captain has the best quarters. In war, the leaders have the better tents/rations/things. So we cannot use his luxury as the sole definition of his personality. We don't know what was stolen, or if he used camp money to acquire these things.

I don't believe he is narcissistic. He doubts himself far too much to be a narcissist. This can be heard during quiet conversations, when he removes the showman's act and becomes just Dutch. He doubts himself, his choices, his actions, and the best course forward.

During my second play through I spent way more time in camp just listening and watching. If you haven't done this, I highly recommend doing so. One peculiar instance really stuck out. I followed Dutch around. He would leave his tent, talk to everyone, give encouraging words, before returning to his tent to read or write. After the Pinkertons show up and tell Arthur they only want Dutch, we see a sudden shift. He leaves the tent and stands at the edge of the cliff, and remains there for over twelve hours. (Results may very). This is the only time I've seen any member of the gang remain still (unless they had a mission). All night, into the next day, he stands at the edge of the cliff. When Arthur speaks to him, his answers are almost angry or perturbed. For the next three game days, his answers to the exact same dialogue prompts seen hopeless, forlorn.

Then, suddenly, it shifts again. He's back to walking around, talking to people. His answers sound confident again. I thought, perhaps, I'd reached the end of the animation cycle until I realized Molly was suddenly unhappy when she'd been fine before. At various moments Dutch claims he can't get a moment's peace.

We do see moments where Dutch accuses Arthur early on about doubting him, and while it could be seen as a manipulative tactic, I think it's more along the lines of he is doubting himself, and assumes Arthur does as well. He trusts Arthur, Hosea, and John too much. The idea of them doubting him plays hard on his insecurities. I honestly believe Dutch suffers from a mild form of psychosis.

We see an even bigger shift in his personality after he cracks his head in Saint Denis. Some interesting facts about brain injuries.

A man working on the railroad had a rail shoot through his brain. He managed to live, much to the surprise of everyone, but his entire personality changed. This incident helped give birth to neuroscience.

A man suffering from depression decided to end his life. He shot himself, and managed to live. He destroyed part of his brain, but it happened to be part of his brain where his depression came from (disclaimer: do not attempt)

Stroke patients often undergo a radical shift in personality depending on which section of the brain that was damaged.

We see clear evidence of the radical personality shift. If Dutch had an unknown mental disorder, a traumatic brain injury could very well have made it worse. So, you have the perfect formula for a mental breakdown, or a psychotic episode.

Childhood trauma

Worsening mental illness

High stress

Traumatic brain injury

Even in his worst moments we see little signs of lucidity that quickly become buried under the avalanche of mental mess ups.

Many argue that Dutch is bad, he's a villain. I completely disagree, and present to you this evidence to support my claims. The following contains strong SPOILERS for RDR2 and RDR1.

Sadie and John seek out Micah, and get surprised by Dutch's presence. Sadie probably became a bounty hunter shortly after Arthur's passing, and we know it took her years to track down Micah. That's with connections, working with the government, etc. Dutch lost everyone, so it probably took him years to track down Micah as well.

Given how he obsesses, we can assume he obsessively searched for him, tricking him to get closer to him and get his Blackwater money back. But if Dutch was a bad guy, truly, why didn't he shoot John?

Micah had Sadie, she was injured, couldn't fight back. Dutch could have easily taken him out right there. Instead, he shoots Micah, and leaves the money behind without a word.

We all know what happens when Dutch walks away. Something, or someone, dies. Obviously there is a lot we could break down from that lone interaction, but let's step forward.

In rdr1, John's family is taken hostage, and the only way he can see them again is to hunt down and kill the last of his gang. John doesn't want to, he wants to live out his life as a rancher. But his hand is forced, and he must now resume the life he swore he'd leave behind.

The first time John and Dutch see each other again, Dutch asks about his family. John responds he hadn't seen them in a while. We know Dutch is smart. John suddenly surrounded by lawmen trying to find him, he knows John doesn't want to be there. He even says "We all make mistakes, John, I never claimed to be a saint." Dutch is out gunned, yet he attempts to goad him into shooting him. Power play, possibly. Once again, Dutch and John have the perfect opportunity to take each other out, but they don't. Dutch shoots the girl and runs away.

Multiple times John and Dutch run into each other, each presented with the perfect opportunity to the each other. Yet neither of them take the opportunity. Both men are highly skilled gunslingers, highly trained to murder. They seem capable of murdering everyone around them, but not each other. Why?

Then we come to the final scene between Dutch and John.

Stood atop a cliff, they are once more faced with the perfect opportunity to end each other. Dutch could have shot John, and vice versa, but neither move. John shot Dutch, but it wasn't a lethal shot. Dutch could have easily healed from it. Instead, he chooses to fall to his death.

Suicide by jumping is a truly terrifying way to go, and it's a method rarely used as most suicidal people want quick and painless deaths. While it could be argued that Dutch was cornered and that was his only way out, I disagree. Dutch could have killed John and found a way to escape. There are millions of scenarios that could have happened, but didn't. He jumps. But then the question becomes, once more, why? Jumping from a cliff to their death, suicide in general, has always been a taboo subject, but it was even more taboo back in the early 1900s. A narcissist wouldn't allow for such an undignified exit, he'd want something far more grandeur to ensure he's remembered. A truly evil, or bad, man would have ended John rather than run away. It doesn't make sense. Unless, you look at it as an act of mercy.

Dutch knows he wronged John, wronged them all. He knew he messed up with Arthur, with Micah. The loss of so many of his family members probably haunted him every step of the way. I think he threw himself off the cliff as a final mercy to John so he didn't have to pull the trigger, and to give into the pain he felt he deserved for all he'd done.

I think he was sloppy because he wanted to be found. How else do you explain him disappearing for years, then popping back up? His whole philosophy has been about getting money and disappearing, yet he holes up in a fort. Even when he knows John has found him, he doesn't leave. He shows up when he wants to be found.

While I am not saying Dutch is a good man, I do not consider him to be the villain, or the evil narcissist everyone claims him to be. I think he was a sad little boy with a mental illness, who became horrifically misguided, and drove himself crazy before ending his own life.

I hope you all liked this! If you did, maybe I'll do another break down!

[guccilan]

Dimples Pt. 2

Part 2 of the “Lan Bros with dimples prompt” for @dutchcementmixer from discord

[Part 1]

[On AO3]

I headcanon LXC as a gremlin elder brother (who acts like a poised gentlemen in front of everyone else) who learned how to tease LWJ and cause mischief from their mother, you can’t change my mind.

***** The idea was this:

Lan Xichen and Lan Zhan look very similar + Lan Xichen has a dimple on his right cheek when he smiles a certain way = Lan Zhan has dimples.

The problem, Wei Wuxian realized as he scampered through the grounds in search of his husband, was that Lan Xichen had smiled rather widely before the dimples had appeared. Lan Zhan hardly ever smiled, and when he did so, it was the smallest upturn of his lips, warm and lovely as sunlight, as secret as the sunbeams filtering through the mists of the Cloud Recesses, a small flash just for him, love shining softly through eyes like colored glass and-

Wei Wuxian tripped. 

So, he thought, smiling widely in thanks at a passing disciple who had attempted to help him up, Lan Zhan will have to smile widely. 

Never mind the Xuanyu of Slaughter, his initial fall into the Burial Grounds, the Sunshot Campaign, living in the Burial Grounds or even everything after his rebirth. This was going to be his biggest challenge yet.

Attempt the impossible. 

Oh, this is going to be fun. 

*****

This was not fun.

Wei Wuxian had tried everything under the sun and stars to get Lan Zhan to smile widely. 

He’d made every stupid joke he knew, had rolled around on the ground whining and teasing and had gained, at most, a “ridiculous” paired with a soft, warm gaze. 

He’d even attempted to tickle his husband, but that had quickly led to…Distractions from his Mission. 

At last, desperate and at the edge of losing all hope, Wei Wuxian had recounted every embarrassing story Lan Xichen had told him about Lan Zhan, hoping that such fun stories and his own joyful laughter would allow him a glimpse of the potential treasure he coveted.

Too late, Wei Wuxian remembered that he was rather unique in being able to laugh at himself and brush off most embarrassments shamelessly. Too late, he remembered Lan Zhan was a younger brother.

*****

Lan Wangji did not smile. 

Lan Wangji, being a mature and self-assured adult, did not particularly feel embarrassed at stories of his childhood, recognizing that children are inherently prone to mistakes and silly behavior. However, for all that he was a mature adult, a war veteran, and a senior disciple of one of the great sects, he was also a younger brother, and he did not appreciate teasing from his elder brother, who clearly had too much time on his hands if he was telling embarrassing stories to Wangji’s husband. 

(Nevermind that Wei Ying clearly adored hearing about his childhood antics, rolling around the ground in boisterous laughter. Nevermind that this gave him more fodder for teasing Wangji, which Wangji would deny liking with his last breath, treasuring it all the same.)

Between siblings, this was an act of war.

*****

So here they were. 

Lan Zhan, having taken a break from sect duties, had joined Wei Wuxian and Lan Xichen for their daily tea together. 

Lan Zhan glowered at his brother. His tea sat untouched in front of him.

Lan Xichen hid a smile behind his teacup, eyes twinkling. 

Wei Wuxian fidgeted in his seat, chewing on a sweet.

Surely, this awkward atmosphere between the brothers would break soon?! Wei Wuxian didn’t know how much more he could handle.

Lan Zhan spoke.

“Brother, do you recall when you were ten, you walked into the class covered in mud?” he said, a triumphant light gleaming in his eyes.

Lan Xichen smiled gently, bloodlust gleaming in his.

“Yes,” he agreed, “I’d had to jump down an empty well during a storm after you, because you thought you’d seen a rabbit trapped in there. It turned out to be some fabric blown in by the wind, didn’t it?”

Lan Zhan twitched subtly in his seat.

Lan Xichen smiled and took another sip of tea.

Wei Wuxian slumped down. They’d been going back and forth like this for a good hour now, and Lan Zhan had gained no ground. Lan Xichen clearly held the advantage here.

Wei Wuxian turned to Lan Zhan, begging his husband with his eyes to concede defeat. This was a hopeless battle. Elder siblings always remembered more and had better ammunition. He would know. Jiang Yanli, when she was willing to shed her usual kind and sweet nature, had been a menace.

Lan Zhan stubbornly readied himself for another attempt. 

Wei Wuxian, mouth dry with fear, took his first sip of the tea that had been sitting in front of him – and almost spat it right out. This was the blend from Qinghe? He’d have to send a message to Nie Huaisang – if the sect leader didn’t already know about the tea blend that was, no doubt, currently single-handedly destroying his region’s recovering and fragile reputation, someone had to inform him.

Lan Zhan made his move. “Hmm. Do you recall spending days in the healer’s hall because you consumed poisonous berries we had been taught to recognize?”

“Ah. Yes, that was rather unfortunate, wasn’t it? But how could I have resisted? You hadn’t been taught to recognize them yet, and had spent so long gathering them for me. How could I have resisted when you broke into such pitiful tears when I first refused?”

This was a massacre. 

Lan Zhan could be stubborn, but this situation was beyond saving. Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to break into the battle, when he saw his savior approaching them.

Lan Qiren.

Wei Wuxian had never before felt overwhelming joy at seeing the elder, but today was a very strange day indeed. He smiled widely at his uncle-in-law and was completely ignored. That was alright. The brothers would behave in front of their uncle. He was saved.

They stood up to greet him, bowing in utmost propriety, and then sat back down.

Lan Qiren began asking Lan Zhan about the morning meetings, asking for Lan Xichen’s opinions and recommendations as they poured him a cup of tea. Wei Wuxian, having just tasted the travesty that tried to pass itself as tea, and currently feeling immense gratitude for the elder, opened his mouth to spare Lan Qiren what would surely be intense torture.

Lan Xichen glanced at him. His eyes promised death.

Wei Wuxian snapped his mouth closed and meekly sat back.

“Xichen, this isn’t the… tea that we tasted yesterday, is it?” Lan Qiren asked. 

“No, Uncle,” said Lan Xichen. Wei Wuxian stared at him. Lan Xichen met his eyes and hid a small grin behind his cup of tea, which – Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes as a breeze flowed over them. Lan Xichen’s tea smelled different from what he had served Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan, and now Lan Qiren.

Now, Lan Qiren was by no means a fool. He had not managed to cover up one of the Lan Clan’s biggest scandals, run the sect for years, and raise his nephews to be bright, talented, good, and hardworking men with only luck. Even now, he learned from his mistake, confirming that the tea was the sort safe for consumption, and not the disgusting concoction he’d had the misfortune of partaking in, a few days ago. Lan Qiren was not a fool. But he was ever trusting of his nephews, and therein lay his biggest mistake. He nodded and took a sip.

His eyes bugged out of his face.

His cheeks puffed, torn between spitting out the revolting tea and swallowing it to save face.

His face turned an alarming shade of red as he ceased breathing for a long, long moment.

Wei Wuxian could take it no more. He burst into manic laughter as Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji rushed to aid their uncle, who was slowly turning purple with stupefied horror and lack of air. He laughed as Lan Qiren finally lost the battle and spat out his tea over the front of his robes, Lan Xichen expressing his apologies because he must have mixed up the tea blends, he apologized deeply, Uncle. He laughed until tears streamed from his eyes as Lan Qiren excused himself and hurriedly left, coughing and glaring death at Wei Wuxian.

He was still hiccupping with laughter, coming down from the high, when the Lan brothers sat down and stared at each other. After a moment, Lan Xichen broke into bright laughter, tossing his head back, more carefree than anyone had seen him in many, long years.

Lan Wangji stared at his husband, who was hiccupping and holding his sides. He turned and stared at his brother, who was laughing bright and loud. And Wangji thought, for just a moment, that he could see the figure of a woman sitting by his two beloved people, giving him a teasing smile as his brother, finally quieting his laughter, and turning, gave him the exact same smile–

Wei Wuxian looked up and saw, just to the side of Lan Zhan’s now widely upturned lips, almost hidden in the curve of his right cheek, the smallest indentation he had ever seen. 

Wei Wuxian had just caught his breath before he lost it again, seeing a dimple- a dimple- on his husband’s face, the widest smile that had ever graced Lan Zhan’s jade face nearly blinding him. It was as though the gods themselves, stunned and enamored as he was, had descended from the heavens to press a reverent hand to Lan Zhan’s radiant smile, leaving behind a dimple.

Wei Wuxian choked.

Wei Wuxian choked, and dimly heard Lan Xichen urging him to drink something as a cup was shoved into his hand. Too late, he heard the undercurrent of glee in his brother-in-law’s voice, and nearly choked again as he tasted that revolting drink, his eyes tearing as his body protested the substance. That was alright. He hardly registered the taste. He was stunned by beauty of that dimple, the beaming force of that wide smile that was still—that was still—on Lan Zhan’s face.

Lan Xichen had made him suffer a great many things today, from humiliation to drinking what must surely be poison, but as Wei Wuxian looked over at him, he hoped his eyes conveyed his gratitude. Lan Xichen, teasing smile softening in affection, nodded at him.

“Brother,” Lan Zhan said, getting up to leave, smile gone, but eyes warm and fond.

“Yes, Wangji?” Lan Xichen said cheerfully.

“Lying is forbidden. Please copy the rules once, in handstand.”

Lan Xichen’s laughter followed them all the way down the mountain.

[sunflowerbloomss]

i will NOT allow anyone to deprive me of david’s pov so here we go fellas!! list of stuff that’s mentioned is below

there is a knock on his door. “david?”

laura, he realizes. he doesn’t reply. he knows she won’t come in if he doesn’t let her, and he really doesn’t want to be anywhere next to another person right now. he had turned off his phone after seeing matteo’s texts, and was reading with music in the background ever since. he used to go and hide, but he didn’t have it in him to do that to laura, so he tried a different way to deal with his nagging brain. so far he had finished two books, and he was halfway through the third.

“are you in love with him?” “no!” “you wouldn’t be the first person to fall for a jerk, henry.”

it was one of his favorite lines from this book. but unfortunately, he wasn’t really in the mood to stop everything and think about it. he didn’t want to think about falling in love, because that meant thinking about matteo, and that wasn’t any good lately.

“david?” laura tried again, “i wouldn’t come in, but take off your binder. it’s been a lot more than eight hours and you have terrible binding habits anyway. i don’t want you falling asleep with it again.”

david took a deep breath and put his book aside. avoiding his reflection, he took off his shirt and then his binder, quickly, and made a big effort to put his shirt on as fast as he could. he met his reflection’s gaze for a second before looking away. the mirror in his room was there for good days, not bad ones. and this day is definitely a bad one.

“i took it off,” he told laura from the other side of the door, though he knew she wouldn’t be satisfied.

she opened the door just a little and pushed her hand inside his room. she did that, sometimes, asking him to keep the binder and put it next to his bed in the morning before she goes to work. it didn’t happen often, but it happened when she didn’t really trust david’s common sense. not surprisingly, this was one of them, too.

david put the binder in her hand, and she closed the door, leaving him alone, again. if she were anyone else, he would feel bad for not communicating. but it’s laura. she knows him better than anyone, and she knows exactly when it’s not her and when david really needs to be alone and when she should never let him be by himself. quite often he thought of how much she had done for him - for both of them - and when these thoughts cross his mind, he usually asks her about her day or says he’ll make dinner or wash the dishes, even though it’s her turn.

he looked at his book, but he didn’t want to continue with it suddenly. he had already finished ari and dante and the picture of dorian gray, and even though he loves the one he’s reading, he really feels like reading a few short stories instead. something that ends quickly, problems that solve themselves in many different ways.

and if they don’t believe me now, will they ever believe me?

despite himself, david smiled at the song. it was always one he particularly liked from the album. this song is one of the reasons he had bought this as a record. when he packed his bags from his parent’s house, he didn’t have much time and space, but felt like he needs to take this record with him. it made sense to him then, and it makes sense to him now. laura had saved money for almost a year to buy him a record player for his birthday, and since then, every time he felt down and didn’t want to have his phone on he’s listen to the queen is dead.

he picked the happy prince and other stories from his small library and sat down on his bed again. he really did feel like shit, but for some reason, reading about characters who die and suffer and sacrifice themselves makes him feel better, like there are some who have it worse. he said that to laura once, and she told him she keeps in her library the exact opposite of books - the happy ones, with the sweetest and most joyful plots, because that distracts her when she’s down.

after some time he heard muffled talking from the other side of the door, and tried to understand who laura was talking to, because he didn’t hear anyone else. even though he didn’t want to talk to anyone, he thought that maybe talking to laura would help. so he put his book aside, got up and opened the door.

she had just hung up a phone conversation. “hey”, she said, her voice the softest he had ever heard.

david tried to force a smile, but he realized it must look sadder. “hey. who did you talk to - oh. wait. you have a date tonight, don’t you?”

laura smiled. “i was just talking to her, actually. i told her i can’t come today, but we decided to meet some other time.” she sat on the couch.

david did, too. “why? you can go.”

laura shook her head. “no. my brother’s not going to make himself dinner and will probably bind for twenty-four hours if i wouldn’t tell him to stop, and anyway, i want to be with him if he’s feeling down. because i’ve actually never seen him like that.”

david tried to blink back tears. he could just tell her. he could let himself break down and let her hug him and tell him they don’t have to stay anywhere and that matteo doesn’t deserve him. he could do that. he knows she would be as good as she can about it. and yet, there’s something stopping him.

“you can talk to me, you know. you don’t have to, but you can.” her eyes are sincere. “i want you to know that. i don’t want to stress you to do anything, but i -”

“i was outed again,” he said, and that’s it, he really did say it, and he couldn’t stop his tears now. “everyone was laughing, and i was supposed to meet up with matteo and talk but i just ran away like i always do and he tried to call me but i can’t talk to anyone now.” he sniffed, his cheeks wet, and laura pulled him towards her and hugged him tight. “i don’t know what to do, laura.”

she took a deep breath. “me neither. but i think that’s okay that we don’t know what to do. i don’t think anyone knows what to do. but we won’t know what to do together, okay? i’m glad you told me. and it’s okay that you didn’t talk to matteo. he should understand, and if he doesn’t, he would’ and if he wouldn’t - you’re probably better off without him and his baggy pants.” david muffled a laugh against her shoulder. “i mean it, though. i don’t care about some stupid white cis boy who keeps doing stuff at the wrong times. i care about you. and if thinking about him stresses you out, it shouldn’t be it. i know you like him. but still.”

“i don’t know how i can talk to anyone from school now,” he whispered, “i’m - laura, that’s why i ran away. i can’t do that again.”

laura broke the hug to hold his face between her hands and lay their foreheads together. “listen to me. wherever you want to be, we can do that. wherever you want to go, we can go there. you’re not a burden, david. if you don’t feel safe here, we can go to somewhere else and try again. and if you don’t feel safe there, either, we’ll try again until we’re somewhere you want to be.” her eyes were looking right on his, daring and caring at the same time. “okay?”

he nodded. “but what do i do now? i - someone’s going to find us and report us and you know what happened the last time authorities discovered we live her. it’s not like it’s that easy. and we have enough stuff marked on our door, we don’t need any more things.”

“i didn’t say it would be easy. but i won’t let you suffer, david. i can’t. i won’t let this happen. are you listening to me? if you feel like you can’t be here, we won’t be here.” she had a hand strong on his shoulder, and generally speaking he didn’t like people touching him, but laura was not just people. she was laura. and david really does love her with his entire heart.

“okay.”

“do you want to watch a movie?” she asked, a barely visible smile in her eyes, “only lovers left alive?”

david shook his head. “inception,” he said instead, and they turned their computer on.

the book quote is from “we are the ants” by shaun david hutchinson, p. 226. the book is about a boy named henry who knows when the world will end, and to prevent it he just needs to press a button. the book follows the debates within himself. it’s great, 10/10 recommended.

the books he had already finished are:

1. “aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe” by benjamine alire saenz. it’s about two boys in el paso in new mexico in the 80′ who teach each other to swim and some other things. also amazing, 10/10, one of the best books ever

2. “the picture of dorian gray” by oscar wilde. if yall don’t know that i’m disappointed

the book he starts to read is “the happy prince and other stories” by, again, oscar wilde. it’s a collection of short stories he had written.

the record he’s listening to is “the queen is dead” by the smiths and the specific song is “the boy with the thorn in his side”. a good album!!!

the movie inception is really cool and i don’t know how to explain it without spoiling but it’s cool

[teddy06writes]

Out of Their Grasp

requested by this anon: “hey hey I was wondering if you could do dream x George x reader fantasy/royal au (bc I just read "for his hand" and I love it so much!!) where reader and dream go to battle but only dream returns from it. and he has to tell George that reader died. the more angst the better😝💅”

and also this one: “will there be a part 2 of For His Hand? It’s so good, i loved it!”

{Technically you don’t have to read part one but I would recommend it because this one takes place in the same universe}

Dream x George x reader

trigger warnings: swearing, yelling, major character death, aGnSt

premise: war breaks out near the borders of the SMP, you and Dream are sent ahead of the royal party to the front lines in an attempt to stop any further battles until a peace can be reached when disaster strikes, leaving your partners to deal with the repercussions. 

{dude I’m like manically laughing right now}

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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“It was just skirmishes, here and there for the last few weeks,” Sam gestured to a few spots near the northern boarder on the map spread out across the table, before pointing to another in the center of the rest, “But then, yesterday there was a huge attack on the villages, and our military bases in this valley.” 

You glanced around the room, from person to person, gauging there reactions. 

George had visibly stiffened in his seat, and behind him Dream seemed equal tense. 

“Have we taken any measures to fight back?” Sapnap asked impatiently. 

“How bad are the damages?” George asked, ignoring him. 

Eret looked down at the report they’d been given, “There seems to have been more pillaging than raiding, they were breaking into peoples house, causing general destruction and looting, when our forces attempted to stop them they began to fight. All in all 30 of ours were killed and there was an estimated 10,000 in damages.” 

George frowned, as Niki spoke up, “We should pay the people reparation's and help them with any reconstruction that needs to be done.”

Many people nodded, but next to you Sapnap was still unhappy, “Are we doing anything about the invaders? We cannot just sit here and allow them to attack the people!” 

“Pushing, pushing.” You muttered. 

The king looked at him for a long moment, before turning to Callahan, the scribe, “Attempt to negotiate a peace. I don’t want anymore bloodshed to curse this land.” 

The man beside you groaned, and you were quick to elbow him in the side and Sam ended the meeting and everyone began to file out of the room, hissing, “I don’t know how they do things where you’re from but that is no way to behave in an advisory meeting. Next time you pull that shit you won’t be allowed back to one.” 

-You had taken the new coming warrior on as a sort of apprentice after he’d first arrived at the palace, and it was clear the change of pace wasn’t something he was ready for- 

“They can’t just stand by! The King is a fool if he thinks a peace can be reached like this!” 

You glared at him. “The King is no fool.” 

“You only say that out of obligation.” Sapnap fired back. 

You recoiled, burned, before crossing your arms and starting out of the room, “You may be a trained mercenary but you haven’t the faintest idea as to how to hold yourself among this crowd. It will be the death of you.” 

He followed you back toward your office, listening as you continued, “King George is a good and just man, to say that he is a fool is to say the sun is square. He has wiped this kingdom clean of many years of bloodshed. 

“The Kings advisors, and cabinet are kind, respectable people, you must remember to hold your tongue  unless spoken too, and never say anything brash as you have done now, lest you make a greater fool of yourself.” 

He huffed, “If I must stay silent in those meetings than how can I get my point across? Sending a messege to the enemy through force may be the only way!”

“Now you sound like Tommy, just as foolhardy and headstrong as the child,” You pushed the door to your office open, “I’m sure that Technoblade agrees with you, though he knows better than to speak freely.” 

“If he agrees with me than perhaps it’s the right move.” 

You turned to look at him quizzically, finally saying, “A wise king does not seek out war, no matter what his knights advise.” 

Sapnap turned, “Then the lot of them are fools.” 

“I have told you once to never disrespect the king, I suggest you don’t do it again. This land has seen it’s share of unjust rulers, be thankful you have not come here under worse authority.” 

~~ That night, when the palace grew quiet, and the sky dark, you found yourself back in Dream’s quarters, an overtired, overstressed George having wedged himself between you two and refusing to move. 

You sighed as Dream ran a hand through your sleeping partners hair, “He’s anxious.” 

“I mean, can you blame him? War may be on the horizon.” Dream murmured. 

“I meant even now- in the time of sleep. I think Sapnap is just adding fuel to the fire.” 

Dream sighed, “If he has another outburst like that-” 

“He’ll be cast out,” You nodded, “I know. He just needs to be willing to learn the way things go around here. In time he will learn.” 

Your boyfriend chuckled to himself, “Fucking hotshot.” 

“I think you’d like him, if you were able to spend more time with him.” You smiled. 

“Well someone had to go snatch him up as an apprentice!” 

“Well it was him or Ranboo, and Ranboo is far too- forgetful, for this sort of thing. I’d’ve had Tubbo but he and Tommy are a package set an you took ‘em.”

“What about Purpled?” 

You rolled your eyes, “He started an apprenticeship with Punz ages ago.” 

“SHHhhhhhhh, ‘m tryin’ to sleep.” George muttered, burying his face in your shoulder. 

In the darkness of the chamber you could barley make out Dream’s eyes sparkling as he took your hand, “Course love, course.” 

~~

As the weeks continued the damages on the northern boarder only seemed to grow, the new invaders claiming three of the villages there own. 

There was yet another large attack on the town that had been damaged the first time, this time a direct threat left etched on the walls, ‘You have made my people suffer, and now yours shall feel the same’

“Militia, both local and our own soldiers have taken it upon themselves to fight back, almost a hundred lived lost to each side.” The silence in the room grew deafening as Sam finished reading his report, not even Sapnap daring to speak. 

“Your Majesty?” Bad hazarded, “What is our next course of action?” 

George frowned, glancing around the room, “Peace is still the priority. Maybe- maybe we call a ceasefire, I could meet with there ruler-” 

“No,” Dream interrupted, drawing all eyes to him, “It would be too dangerous. How do we know they can be trusted to lay down there arms?” 

George shot him a look, “How do we know that we haven’t done anything to provoke them? Whatever we have done wrong we need to fix it. If we can work something out then people will be spared on both sides.” 

“Shall we arrange for a ceasefire?” Eret asked. 

The King nodded as Wilbur spoke up, “We could set up a meeting place, on neutral ground, possibly similar to the holy lands, so there would be no worry of a security breech.”

Dream seemed to relax at this, and then eyes were turned to you and Sapnap, representing the royal guard, “We can, but even so we should stay vigilant, perhaps send a group ahead with the runners to see too it.” You said, noting the gratitude on Dream’s face, as well as the slight annoyance on George’s. 

“Well I see no one better to attend to the King’s safety than you,” Bad said, “You shall go with the party, and Technoblade with you, Sapnap can remain here to take over your day to day duties.” 

The man in question quietly shot you a pleading look, at which you sighed, “With all do respect I think Sapnap could be better severing to the crown if he joined the running party.”

Bad glanced around to the others, looking for any objections before shrugging, “We can find someone else to do the work. So that’ll be you, Technoblade, Sapnap, and we can send the usual scouting party, and Sam shall go with again.” 

~~ The next morning found you suiting up and heading out to the stables to tack up your horse. Techno was already down there, idly chatting with Phil as he readied Carl for the journey, and out in the courtyard you could see Sapnap talking to two men. 

“Good morning, (y/n)!” Phil chirped, waving your direction. 

“Morning Phil.” You moved down the row, reaching out and letting Beckerson nuzzle into your palm. 

After getting your horse cared for and saddled, the rest of the party had headed out of the stables as your partners entered.

George took your hand, “Don’t start any more trouble.” 

“Sounds like your talking to Dream not me.” You chuckled. 

“Hey!” Dream protested. 

“I’m not wrong!” You teased. 

George rolled his eyes, quickly pulling you in for a kiss, “Make things good for me to be out there.” 

“Stay out of trouble.” Dream advised, pulling you away from George to kiss you himself. 

“You underestimate me.” You smirked, grabbing Bekerson’s reigns. 

Dream rolled his eyes as you started to lead the horse out of the stable, calling, “And stay safe!” 

“I’ll see you in five days!” You chuckled, heading out of the stables and quickly mounting your horse, kicking at his sides to catch up with the others.

~~ The last three days had been spent anxiously waiting, and now the journey to the norther board was coming to a close. 

Dream rode alongside the carriage, eyes following the strange trail of smoke on the horizon; something was wrong, he could feel it. 

The quiet, almost calm of the morning was slowly being cut through by a growing noise, and then finally shattered as one of the runners sent ahead to signal their arrival came crashing through the trees looking panicked. 

“What’s going on?” Punz asked.

“They attacked! They broke the ceasefire!” 

Dream’s brain surged with panic as he turned to where George and his advisors were starting to climb out of the carriage asking why they had stopped, “Turn around! It isn’t safe here! Go! Punz! Tommy! Ponk! Get them out of here!” 

Before he could even stop to see if they were following his orders he was rushing forward down the road, urging Spirit to go faster as the road widened into the village. 

Dream was met with nothing but chaos, the royal insignia’s on the tents set up in the field were aflame, and the clashing of swords filled his ears as the royal army and the few commoners who could fought back against the pillaging people. 

 “About time you showed up!” Sapnap yelled from halfway across the field, “We could use some fucking help!” 

“No shit!” Dream yelled back, dismounting and unsheathing his sword. 

Almost immediately another person came barley towards him, throwing him into combat. 

He cut his way across the field, taking down people here and there, still searching the carnage for you. 

Eventually he made it to where Sapnap had just disarmed and knocked out another opponent, “Where are they?” 

His eyes danced around the wreckage, “Could be anywhere, saw ‘em trying to get the townspeople out of the way.” 

Dream cursed, running off the direction of the village, calling you name. 

The fighting continued, the addition of the extra royal guardsmen helping turn the tide of the battle, though Dream still couldn’t locate you on the battle field.

As the remaining invaders began to retreat, and the royal troops beginning to recoop be demanded, “Has anyone seen (y/n)?!”

“Last I saw they were on the ridge sir.” Someone said.

Dream nodded, quickly turning to head the direction they had pointed as they all went back to collecting the villagers from there hiding places.

The little valley seemed all too quiet as Dream climbed toward the ridge, the sounds of another skirmish erupting into the air.

Taking off at a sprint he made it up the hill to find you locked in combat with another warrior.

You panted, throwing up you shield to block another strike from his axe before shoving forward and swing your sword at his spear wielding hand.

He wasn’t excepting this, and the spear clatter out of his hand, the shock on his face giving you enough momentum to keep pushing forward, throwing attack after attack at the man as he edged backward.

You had just managed to shove him to the ground when a cry broke your attention.

“(Y/N)!!”

You turned to see Dream, smiling, words starting to form on your lips as a spear suddenly drove through your chest.

“NO!!!!!” Dream shrieked, charging forward and quickly slashing at the mans throat before turning to where you had fallen in the grass.

“T-that one was your fault.” You mumbled as he did his best to pull your shaking body into his arms.

“I know,” tears flooded his eyes, “It’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna get help.”

You did your best to smile through your fear, “What would George say if he saw you here cuddling me without him? Huh?”

“(Y/n)....”

“Bad time for a joke I guess,” you shaky voice was disrupted by a painful cough wracking your body, “Never really planned on being ran through with a spear this morning.”

Dream had resolved to muteness, watching you life slip away and out of his grasp with a murmured, “I’m sorry.”

~~

“Your highness, news of the boarder war has returned.”

George looked up as Wilbur ushered a scarily calm Technoblade and an all too quiet Dream into the room, “What is it? Where’s (y/n)?”

“Their gone,” Dream sounded all too hollow, “Th- they aren’t coming back.”

George froze and Techno sighed, “I think I’m gonna leave you alone to sort this out. C’mon Wilbur.”

The doors closed slowly behind them as Dream moved closer to the throne, quietly pulling a distraught George into his arms.

“Th- they died in my arms. I- I couldn’t stop it.”

George wipped at silent tears, “We’re going to make them pay.”

A funeral was planned and attended, everyone leaving the King and his Knight space to breath as they remained standing by the grave.

“Tomorrow.” George said with finality, “Tomorrow we make them pay.”

Dream nodded, looking down at the copy of the note that had been sent to the enemy:

‘Holy water cannot stop me now, a thours and armies couldn’t keep me out. I don’t want your money, I don’t want your crown, see I’ve come to burn your kingdom down’

[celsidebottom]

Keeping Up with the Kobolds

Chapter 3: Dark Nightmares

Wilde thinks that the kobolds are alien and foreign, until he realizes that their nightmares aren't so different from his own.

Head on over to AO3, or read more below!

Chapter 1 (tumblr) (AO3)

That evening, Wilde only had to fend off four kobolds that wanted to claim his bedroom as their own.  He shooed them off to the other guest rooms, and they apparently found a sufficient location to rest, since they stopped bothering him after a while.  Maybe they were starting to learn, to understand Wilde’s requests?

Doubtful.  It was hard to be more of an annoyance than dismantling his desk while he was working at it, but the kobolds had certainly given it their best go throughout the course of the day.  Several of them had dragged raw fish into his office, tossing the dead animal at him and looking at him with expectant eyes.  When he, naturally, yelled at the thrown fish, the kobolds would grab their offering and scamper away into a corner, where they would chew obnoxiously on their meal.  They didn’t even bother to clean up after themselves.  Now everything smelled like fish.

Wilde tried to put that all aside so that he could get some sleep.  He knew from experience that even he needed rest, that he was useless when such rest was denied him.  He still didn’t get the ‘recommended’ amount of sleep, whatever that was, but he did try to get a few hours each night at least.

Midway through the night, he rolled over and noticed a light shining in his room.  Part of him wanted to reach for the dagger again, but he knew better.

He sat up and noticed the small kobold, the one that had sat on his lap earlier that day, standing in the doorway to his room.  Their eyes were wide, and they held their tail in their hands while their body trembled.

“Eep?  Are you alright?”

The kobold let out a despairing squawk that even Wilde’s broken heart couldn’t ignore.  He crawled out of bed and picked the kobold up, then carefully sat them down next to him so that they rested against the pillows.  Eep refused to let go of Wilde’s arm, and he didn’t resist.

“Bad dreams?  Nightmares?”

The kobold either didn’t understand or was still so traumatized by the scenes recreated by their subconscious that they just continued to stare straight ahead with unblinking eyes, shaking against Wilde’s skin.

“I get that.  I have nightmares too,” he admitted.

“Eep?”

“I do.  It’s alright, you’re safe now.”

Eep let out a quieter squeak but continued to hold onto Wilde’s arm.  Their claws sunk slightly into his skin but, as uncomfortable as it was, Wilde didn’t pull away.

For the first time, he started to understand these kobolds.  While the details of their torment would remain foreign to him, the pain, the suffering, the fear that still raced through them… that he did understand.

After a while, Eep stopped trembling and their grip lessened.

“Better?”  Wilde asked, a faint smile on his scarred lips.

“Eep!”

“I’m glad.”

After a pause, the kobold turned to look up at Wilde.  Their eyes were still wide, but this time they were filled with hope, not fear.

“Eep?”

Wilde sighed, but how could he say no to a face like that?  Besides, he knew how hard it was to get back to sleep after a nightmare.  Usually, he just got up and went right to work to try and keep the darkness from taking over, or he would practice playing his lute and singing, much to the dismay of anyone who shared the inn with him and awoke in the early hours of the morning to mysterious music.

“Of course, you can sleep here tonight,” Wilde said softly.

“Eep!”

“Alright, now, try to get some sleep.  I’m here if you need me, all your other kobold friends too.  We’re all… we’re all in this together, yeah?”

Kobolds didn’t seem quite capable of smiling in the way most humanoids could, but he’d started to pick up on some of their facial expressions, and Eep beamed up at him with joy and appreciation.  They released their grip on Wilde’s arm just enough so that he could lay down and pull the covers up over him, then sat up, walked around in a circle twice, and thumped down on his side in a sleepy little ball.  Soon enough, Eep’s breathing grew slower and turned into a faint snore.

With a smile on his face, Wilde allowed himself to drift back off to sleep to the contented snores of a happy kobold.

*

After another day of wrangling kobolds and trying, in the rare moments of respite, to strategize a worldwide war and relief effort, Wilde was exhausted.  And it was in this exhausted sleep that the darker parts of Wilde’s subconscious were able to take over.

He could feel the pain in his face so vividly, as if he was back there, watching a person he trusted more than anyone else lash out at him, ripping his skin apart.  It stung and burned, but the hurt was more in his chest than in the actual injury.

It wasn’t the first time Wilde had awoken in the middle of the night, shaking and screaming, his sheets drenched in a cold sweat.  Going back to sleep after such a nightmare was almost more terrifying than the dream itself, so he would get up, clean himself off, and get to work.  He couldn’t go back to that moment, or any of the other darker points his mind forced him to replay night after night.  He couldn’t lose anyone else, even if he might awake in the morning and find that they were still there.

Imagining the loss ahead of time didn’t lessen the blow when they were still inevitably taken from him anyway.

This time, when Wilde awoke with a yelp, heart pounding, he thought he was still in his dream.  His chest was heavy and he could barely breathe; when he tried to sit up, he couldn’t move.

His eyes wide, he scanned the darkness for any explanation, any escape from the torment.

Instead, he found two glowing eyes that reflected the pale light coming in from the hallway back at him.

“What… what?”

The kobold let out a quiet and reassuring chirp, then settled back into its resting place on Wilde’s chest.  Cocking his head to the side, Wilde noticed a gigantic heap of kobolds beside him, taking up all the empty space on his bed.  Save for the one on his chest, the remaining kobolds had all formed into one mass of scales and claws, snoring together in sync, as they pressed up against Wilde’s side.

“Eep?  Znal?  Is everything alright?”

“Eep!”

“You.  Bad dreams,” Znal replied, peeking up from the far side of the pile.  “Help.”

“You wanted to help me with my nightmares?”

Still half asleep, Eep reached out from their place in the heap and pulled Wilde’s hand in close, holding onto it the way he had held theirs when their own nightmares had reigned over them.

Znal, meanwhile, nodded, and then settled back into their place.

The kobolds must have heard Wilde cry out in the night, and recognized what he was going through.  Maybe Eep had organized them?  Or maybe they all just knew what it was like, and wanted to be there for him all the same?

He glanced over at the heap, watching the kobolds snooze in peace.

In the few days they’d been there, he’d never been particularly kind to them.  He’d kicked them out of his office, berated them – for heaven’s sake, he’d locked them in a storage room!  After they’d been enslaved and imprisoned!  And still, they showed him compassion and came to him to comfort him when the darkness started to be too much.

“I’m sorry,” Wilde whispered, even though the kobolds were too asleep to hear him and most probably wouldn’t understand him anyway.

The little dragons might still be an annoyance at times, but they demonstrated a kindness in that one moment that most of the ‘more advanced’ races could barely conceive of.  Everyone had their own idiosyncrasies, right?

Eep still holding his hand, Wilde settled back against his pillows.  

If those kobolds could accept him and his idiosyncrasies, then he could certainly work with theirs.  That’s what friends and family were for, right?

[breakingarrows]

The Outer Worlds Doesn’t Want a Revolution

Partnering with publisher Private Division, Obsidian had the freedom to make whatever they wanted. Best known for licensed properties established by other developers (Bioware with Knights of the Old Republic 2: The Sith Lords and Bethesda with Fallout: New Vegas), Obsidian had the chance to do something completely new. With The Outer Worlds they successfully created another Bethesda game. This is an iteration rather than a revolution. While that is not bad in and of itself, it is the lackluster execution that makes it a disappointment, specifically to their previous work on iterating upon existing games.

Obsidian had proved themselves superior to Bethesda back in 2010 with Fallout: New Vegas. This was a follow up to Fallout 3 utilizing the same graphics engine but transplanted back to the western territory of the original two Fallout games. It improved upon Fallout 3 greatly with its humanizing of formerly mindless enemy types and allowing the player to pick and choose what factions to support with a reflexive loss of reputation with their enemy. You couldn't please everyone. If you have played any of the Bethesda Fallout games, and even to an extent The Elder Scrolls, you have essentially played The Outer Worlds. Character creation, skill allotment upon leveling up, perks, weight encumbrance, a slow-motion replacement for V.A.T.S., factions with reputations and oppositions, and mowing down enemies that exist soley to be killed by the player, all of this can easily be seen as a 2019 update of Fallout 3, a now 11 year old game. It is clear Obsidian was not interested in revolutionizing the Bethesda format, and instead made slight alterations and updates.

All these years later and I am essentially playing the same fundamental game with a change in aesthetic from alternative history post-apocalypse to corporate owned space colonies. There is a possibility here for that aesthetic to breathe new life into the now rote gameplay style, but this is where the deeper disappointment stems: the writing.

Role-playing games frequently employ the separation of main quest and side quests as a tiered to-do list for the player to check off in order to accrue experience, gear, and see all that the game has to offer. After over thirty years of these kinds of games, the fundamentals have been established: Fetch quests. Killing special named enemies with higher stats than your average bullet magnet. A succession of conversations with a split choice at the end. The best games hide these simplistic tasks underneath flavor text: a way to get the player invested in the goings on by expanding on the fiction of the world or the introduction of unique and likeable characters (or love-to-hate ones). Here is one of The Outer Worlds greater failings.

Edgewater, in the region of Emerald Vale, is the first major town you come across and the source of a good amount of side quests to engage with. As far as introductions go, Edgewater leaves a terrible taste of what is to come. As mentioned before, the standard goals appear, and their flavor text fail to disguise the monotonous nature of these tasks. Retrieve a book. Find some medicine. Find three books in separate locations. Kill three named enemies. Kill a robot. Collect gravesite fees. Find a missing person. These descriptions are overly simplified but the game does not do a great job at disguising their simplicity.

Retrieving a book is done for a vicar, a religious counselor who views his flock with contempt and laments that the book is in a different language. Finding medicine serves as an example of the cruelty of Spacer’s Choice, the corporation behind Edgewater’s existence. Finding three books is for an up and coming engineer who deserted Edgewater due to its cruelty. Killing three named enemies is not even worth further explanation as there is none. These names exist to be crossed off and nothing else. Much like the Marauders and animals you come across on every planet: they exist to be killed. Killing a robot is their stab at comedy, with the quest giver being paranoid about a lone robot outside the town walls and stashes his prized weapon in a bathroom. I promise the actual text is no more comical than my dry description. Collecting gravesite fees is another example of the cruelty of Spacer’s Choice and Edgewater. Finding a missing person is the only worthwhile side quest and even then that is not saying much. Zoe, another deserter, has gone missing. You find out she wanted to join a marauder gang to become their queen, and surprisingly, was successful. You find this out after murdering everyone to make her appear so you can convince her to return to watch some new serials she loves.

As far as being a template for what is to come in the rest of the game, Emerald Vale is a terrible introduction and future regions only marginally improves upon it.

My main disappointment in Emerald Vale is within its main questline. Your ship needs power, and in order to obtain that power you need to decide whether to direct a Geothermal plant’s supply away from Edgewater, or away from the deserters. Some of the side quests before served as examples of the inhumanity of working under Spacer’s Choice in Edgewater. The town is experiencing a plague, where the sick are sentenced to death in a “sick house” full of corpses, while Reed, the town mayor, hoards all the medicine for the hardest workers. Sick time is nonexistent and has to be worked back. Employees must pay their burial fees upfront and  suicides are punished collectively. It is an irredeemable monument to the brutalism of capitalism, or at the very least corporate greed (though there is little difference between the two). This is further reinforced by the Geothermal plant, the source of power.

Upon entering the building you begin to discover through text logs that the plant was once under human supervision before Spacer’s Choice took out a life insurance policy on all of them, installed new robot helpers, and then programmed those helpers to kill all the employees. One worker survives, though in a strange oversight you cannot release him from his basement life even after clearing out the plant and reprogramming the robot’s directive. You get to the point of no return but before you can stamp out Edgewater your companion for the past few hours, Parvati speaks up. She tells you the deserter leader, Adelaide, only wants to see Edgewater destroyed, but that the workers are just living the only life they know how and do not deserve to be stripped of that life.

Curious about how this decision would play out I made a hard save and shut down the power going to Edgewater. Doing so dooms Edgewater and its remaining workers to slowly die out. Adelaide refuses to take those in who will not recant their loyalty to Spacer’s Choice, and presumably even then does not help others as the ending slides explains she died soon after having never shared her fertilizer formula to grow natural food with anyone. She is a bitter old woman who delights in the suffering of Edgwater and Spacer’s Choice’s workers. Her reason? Her son got the plague and knowing medicine was available but denied by Reed, left after her son died despite it being a preventable death. The game treats this legitimate source of rage towards the established order as petty.

The opposing choice, providing power to Edgewater, means the deserters must return to be grinded to dust or die in the wilderness. However, if you talk to the right people a third way will open up after this decision. You can convince Reed to step down and Adelaide to take control. Doing so results in the cannery, the town’s main reason for existence and source of sustenance, to flourish in the aftermath. There was no need for such drastic change, all Edgewater needed was the correct person in charge, a kinder boss than that asshole Reed. This is an observation shared by others, though unlike them I never compromised when real change was possible.

This ethos of “reform from the inside” is made more explicit within the region of Monarch, and the second major decision point of the game. Here a company called Monarch Stellar Industries, and its leader, Sanjar, used to have membership on the Board, the group in charge of the entire colony. Sanjar wants back in, with the idea that he can promote a kinder, more ethical ruling from the top. You see, he is part of upper class/management, but the ethical kind who do good without having to revolutionize the status quo. His opposition lies within the Iconoclasts, those who fully reject the Board and their rule and live in a form of collectivist society. Their flaw is that their leader Graham is more concerned with spreading his ideology than with taking care of his people. This fault is even more manufactured than Adelaide’s justified hatred towards Reed and Spacer’s Choice. Within New Vegas, the NCR, the closest to a “good” faction, have a major flaw in the form of their bureaucracy. This is much more believable than an irresponsible leader whose second in command is too lax to depose him until you step in. You can either lead the Iconoclasts to violently overthrow MSI, force the Iconoclasts to break up and integrate with MSI, or you can kill Graham and have his second in command Zora work with Sanjar to provide workers with an alternative to the Board. Another potential status quo change comes with a recommendation to reach a middle ground.

At the very least The Outer Worlds does not fuck up its final major decision, between the Board’s Lifetime Employment Program and Phineas’ revival of Hope colonists. The former has the lower class put on ice for potential future use, freeing up even more resources to be hoarded by those at the top, and the latter has you overthrowing the Board and bringing in new blood to work towards producing a sustainable colony of cooperation. There is no third way here, and the choice is obvious.

Throughout The Outer Worlds the absurdity of the corporation’s power over people is routinely on display, whether in text conversations or the aesthetic of loading screen images and various NPC barks while running around the towns. All of it is screaming that the way things are is actively killing people and dooming the colony, but when it comes time for revolution the game would prefer you compromise until the finale. There, compromise with the Board, the highest source of everything wrong, would be incapable to stomach by even a sycophant.

Fallout 3 endures in our memories for its revolution to RPGs, while New Vegas endures due to its improvements within that new standard. The Outer Worlds does neither. As Eurogamer states, this is comfort food. That sentiment is not a condemnation, though with the games never stopping, a lesser entry in the Bethesda style is an easy pass. The Capital Wasteland with its hyper violence beckoned the player to go ham with slow motion close ups of splashes of blood and cleanly amputated limbs due to your gunfire or pummelling. New Vegas reoriented that mindset by largely removing the mindless raiders, super mutants, and ghouls, with their residences filled with hooked limbs and hives of bloody organs, and replaced them with humanized factions. The Outer Worlds regresses back to the former with a smaller scale overall, though sans the overdone gore. Exiting town means everything that moves now becomes something to kill, loot, and accrue experience from. It makes movement between quest markers mindlessly mechanical, which bleeds over into everything else about the game and what it is trying to accomplish.

I last played The Outer Worlds on November 9th and it has only been viewed less favorably the more I think about it. The combat is complete filler, there is nothing motivating behind the generic and tired numbers-go-up leveling process, gear you earn via quests may as well just be money or gear parts, entering a room means walking along the walls pressing X to gather everything you can carry to be sold/broken down later, skill checks are just numerical goals, you can rarely press X to talk to someone without your gun being pulled out, and a majority of the writing is just the essence of tweets like this extended through 15+ hours. The game consistently observes, “Man, shits fucked huh?” In spite of this, when it comes time to redistribute power, it backs away. And all of this comes from Obsidian, a developer who once outdid Bethesda at their own game is now stumbling through a poor imitation. Walking around Monarch’s wilderness, the ambient music frequently made me mistake what I was playing for Fallout: New Vegas. And I really wish I was.

[sunsetstudiesx]

Film Recommendations!

I thought I’d recommend some of my absolute favourite movies, because I love sharing my love of movies and just things in general with people. So, in no particular order, here is my list of recommendations:

1. Tombstone (1993)

So I just watched this movie a couple days ago and absolutely loved it. Yes, it is a western. Do you need to like westerns to watch it? Nope. That’s why it’s great. And, it’s based on real people/real events. I sobbed hysterically at the end, but I’m also a huge sap. Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday is perfection. I love love love him.

Here’s the plot summary: Wyatt Earp (Kurt Russell) and his brothers, Morgan (Bill Paxton) and Virgil (Sam Elliott), have left their gunslinger ways behind them to settle down and start a business in the town of Tombstone, Ariz. While they aren't looking to find trouble, trouble soon finds them when they become targets of the ruthless Cowboy gang. Now, together with Wyatt's best friend, Doc Holliday (Val Kilmer), the brothers pick up their guns once more to restore order to a lawless land.

Quotes:

“I’m your huckleberry.”

“Why, Johnny Ringo, you look like somebody just walked over your grave.”

“You gonna do somethin’ or just stand there and bleed?”

2. Fight Club (1999)

Okay. Okay. I just watched this one, too, and let me tell you. If you haven’t seen it/haven’t been spoiled for it, you have no idea what it’s really about. Honestly. It’s so fuckin’ weird and it blew my mind which is something I thought only M. Night Shyamalan could do. Wow, just. . . wow. Watch it, I implore you. I think everyone essentially knows the basic plot, but here it is if you want it, straight from google:

A depressed man (Edward Norton) suffering from insomnia meets a strange soap salesman named Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt) and soon finds himself living in his squalid house after his perfect apartment is destroyed. The two bored men form an underground club with strict rules and fight other men who are fed up with their mundane lives. Their perfect partnership frays when Marla (Helena Bonham Carter), a fellow support group crasher, attracts Tyler's attention.

Quotes:

“You met me at a very strange time in my life.”

“The things you own end up owning you.”

“It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.”

3. Unbreakable (2000)

Speaking of M. Night Shyamalan. While every one of his movies I’ve seen (Split, Glass, Lady in the Water, The Visit) have all been fantastic and mind-blowing, Unbreakable still has my favourite premise and my favourite Shyamalan twist ending. I love this one, even though I don’t really care for Bruce Willis.

Plot summary: A security guard, having been the sole survivor of a high-fatality train crash, finds himself at the centre of a mysterious theory that explains his consistent physical good fortune. When news of his survival is made public, a man whose own body is excessively weak tracks him down in an attempt to explain his unique unbreakable nature.

Quotes:

“Do you know what the scariest thing is? To not know your place in this world. To not know why you’re here.”

4. This is the End (2013)

Seth Rogen. Jay Baruchel. James Franco. Jonah Hill. Danny McBride. Craig Robinson. Playing themselves. The apocalypse. Hilarity ensues. Cameos from Emma Watson, Kevin Hart, Michael Cera, Rihanna, Paul Rudd, Channing Tatum, Aziz Ansari, Jason Segel, Mindy Kaling, and the Backstreet Boys. It’s so funny, I absolutely love it.

Plot summary: In Hollywood, actor James Franco is throwing a party with a slew of celebrity pals. Among those in attendance are his buddies Jonah Hill, Seth Rogen, Jay Baruchel, Danny McBride and Craig Robinson. Suddenly, an apocalypse of biblical proportions erupts, causing untold carnage among Tinseltown's elite and trapping Franco's party in his home. As the world they knew disintegrates outside, cabin fever and dwindling supplies threaten to tear the six friends apart.

Quotes:

“I don’t want to die at James Franco’s house.”

“Oh, no, no, no. I’m drinking and smoking weed. I’m on a cleanse, I’m not psychotic.”

“Take it easy, Dumbledore.”

5. You’ve Got Mail (1998)

Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. This might be my favourite romantic comedy, and I watch a lot. They’re adorable, and Meg Ryan is everything. This one made me cry twice. Once from sadness, once from happiness. Also it has Dave Chappelle in it, who I absolutely love.

Plot summary: Struggling boutique bookseller Kathleen Kelly (Meg Ryan) hates Joe Fox (Tom Hanks), the owner of a corporate Foxbooks chain store that just moved in across the street. When they meet online, however, they begin an intense and anonymous Internet romance, oblivious of each other's true identity. Eventually Joe learns that the enchanting woman he's involved with is actually his business rival. He must now struggle to reconcile his real-life dislike for her with the cyber love he's come to feel.

Quotes:

“There’s the dream of someone else.”

“But I just wanted to say that all this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings.”

“I love daisies. They’re so friendly. Don’t you think daisies are the friendliest flower?”

6. A Hard Day’s Night (1964)

For anyone who loves The Beatles. Here they play themselves, and show what their lives are like. It’s ridiculous and hilarious and god, if I didn’t love them before I loved them dearly after watching. It’s such a fun, easy watch and I adore it.

Plot summary: Over two "typical" days in the life of The Beatles, the boys struggle to keep themselves and Sir Paul McCartney's mischievous grandfather in check while preparing for a live television performance.

Quotes:

“How did you find America?” “Turned left at Greenland.”

“Hey mister can we have our ball back!”

“You’re a swine.”

7. Dazed and Confused (1993)

My favourite movie to watch at the beginning and end of the school year, and let’s be honest, every month in between. I’ve seen this movie more times than I can say. I love the ‘70’s setting, the actors, the plot. Another wonderful, easy watch that just makes me happy. Killer soundtrack, too.

Plot summary: The adventures of high school and junior high students on the last day of school in May 1976.

Quotes:

“You just gotta keep livin’, man. L-i-v-i-n.”

“It’d be a lot cooler if you did.”

“I just wanna look back and say that I did it the best that I could while I was stuck in this place.”

“I’d like to quit thinking of the present, like right now, is some minor, insignificant preamble to somethin’ else.”

8. Dirty Dancing (1987)

Anything with Patrick Swayze is wonderful, and this is no exception. Johnny and Baby are perfect. This movie also has the best soundtrack of any movie I’ve ever watched. Fantastic love story, fantastic movie. Watch it.

Plot summary: Baby (Jennifer Grey) is one listless summer away from the Peace Corps. Hoping to enjoy her youth while it lasts, she's disappointed when her summer plans deposit her at a sleepy resort in the Catskills with her parents. Her luck turns around, however, when the resort's dance instructor, Johnny (Patrick Swayze), enlists Baby as his new partner, and the two fall in love. Baby's father forbids her from seeing Johnny, but she's determined to help him perform the last big dance of the summer.

Quotes:

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”

“Fight harder, huh? I don’t see you fighting so hard, Baby. I don’t see you running up to daddy telling him I’m your guy.”

“You’re right, Johnny. You can’t win no matter what you do.”

“Go back to your playpen, Baby.”

9. The Sound of Music (1965)

This is such a beautiful movie, and I love it so much. My mom and I try to watch it every Christmas as our little tradition. Julie Andrews as Maria is so wonderful, and all of the songs are so, so good. I love all of the children dearly, and oh, do I love Captain VonTrapp.

Plot summary: A tuneful, heartwarming story, it is based on the real life story of the Von Trapp Family singers, one of the world's best-known concert groups in the era immediately preceding World War II. Julie Andrews plays the role of Maria, the tomboyish postulant at an Austrian abbey who becomes a governess in the home of a widowed naval captain with seven children, and brings a new love of life and music into the home.

Quotes:

“You cry a little, and then you wait for the sun to come out. It always does.”

“God bless Louisa, Brigitta, Marta, and little Gretl. Oh, I forgot the other boy. What’s his name? Well, god bless what’s-his-name.”

“I want you to stay. I ask you to stay.”

10. Gladiator (2000)

“Are you not entertained?” I think everyone has heard that line, from this amazing movie. One of the many that has made me cry, it’s such a beautiful story. Also, gladiators. That immediately sells it for me. All of the performances by the actors are top notch as well.

Plot summary: Set in Roman times, the story of a once-powerful general forced to become a common gladiator. The emperor's son is enraged when he is passed over as heir in favour of his father's favourite general. He kills his father and arranges the murder of the general's family, and the general is sold into slavery to be trained as a gladiator - but his subsequent popularity in the arena threatens the throne.

Quotes:

“My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius. Commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, and loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance. In this life or the next.”

“What we do in life echoes in eternity.”

“Falling down is how we grow. Staying down is how we die.”